I'd expected there to be some awkwardness the next morning around Danny but the sly grin on his face in the hungover haze of the late morning showed me how comfortable he had been with what he'd seen. And sleep hadn't changed any of the feelings I had about what I'd done and what he'd seen either.
I wanted him, regardless of who he was with. And I was pretty confident he wanted me too. It was just a matter of who would act first.
That wasn't something I was good at still. It's one thing to get drunk and let my housemate's boyfriend watch me fuck his friend, but something entirely different to make a pass at him and instigate what I really wanted.
And what I wanted was the most incredible need and desire I'd felt for someone. With my previous boyfriend and other former lover's the lead up had been short and sharp, and over as quickly as it had happened.
Danny was different - after the party we continued to see one another and share lingering looks. On nights out there would be fleeting touches that got my heart racing, where his hand would rest on my exposed upper arm and I'd feel his lips brush my ear as he shouted above the raucous sound of dance music in the student bar. Sometimes I'd take someone home with me and pretend it was Danny, but knowing it wasn't Danny made it feel hollow.
The imitation was nothing compared to the real deal - even if I'd never had the real thing to compare it to.
The tension was unbearable at times. Still I heard him almost nigthly fuck Katie, my housemate oblivious to what had occurred between me and the man who's name she cried as he took her in countless positions that I probably didn't even know - at least in my mind anyway. Even my trusty toy wasn't enough - I needed his hands on me, his lips tasting me and, most important of all, his cock deep inside of me.
It was something that ate at me as time moved on, frustrating me and distracting me from studies and everything else going on in my life. It was consuming me and, what was worse, was that I knew there was no way it could really happen. There was no time where it was just me and him alone and I feared sending any message to him would be intercepted by his girlfriend and it would make the living arrangements at best awkward, and at worst hostile.
Forlorn, I was close to giving up on Danny knowing that it would only lead to pain. But before I did I wanted him to at least know how I felt, so my cards were on the table and he could make his own mind up - maybe he just thought that the birthday present I'd given him was just that? And I didn't want him thinking that at all.
I chose a night out to share these feelings, using the courage only alcohol can give to tell him how I felt. Waiting until Katie had gone to the bathroom, I took his arm and lead him aside to a relatively quiet corner of the club.
"About the birthday... gift I gave you." I said, finding it hard to say what I wanted to say when I needed to say it.
"Ah," he responded somewhat glumly. "Wondered when this might come up. Like... I'm so-"
"I don't want you to be sorry."
Danny looked at me with a surprised expression on his handsome face and I pushed forward quickly.
"I... wanted you to see me like that. I like you Danny. Really like you. And I know you're with Katie and you're clearly happy cuz I hear it most nights but I just wanted you to know..."
I looked away from those open and honest eyes and exhaled in an exasperated tone, because I didn't know what to tell him. In the end I shrugged helplessly at him, giving him a weary smile.
"Just want you to know I like you."
He stared blankly at me for a time, blinking stupidly and somewhat in tune with the thunderous bass of the music. But before he could say anything Katie was back and taking his arm, leading him away from the small cove and out to the dancefloor because there was 'a proper tune coming on'. And any hope of hearing how he felt was gone.
That night I got very, very drunk.
With my shot played with the realisation nothing would come of me and Danny, I turned to my studies to get away from the melancholy that had made itself at home inside of me. I started going out less and instead spent time mostly alone downstairs watching christmas movies on the shared television in our living room until the early hours.
It was a dark period but I did know it would pass - I just needed time to mend my battered heart after a few months of not being too kind with it. I told myself that I would go home for christmas, spend time with family and reset my priorities, before coming back to university with a little more savvy for dealing with troublesome boys.
But I wasn't going to make it to the break without making one more mistake.
A few nights before I was due to head back home for the winter break I had camped downstairs and settled under my dressing gown to watch a few movies. Such was my comfort, in baggy shirt and pajama bottoms, that I had no real desire to move and go to bed. And when Home Alone came on I decided that, despite the late hour, I'd at least watch my favourite christmas movie.
The rest of the house was silent, my housemates all asleep in their beds with their respective other halves. It was those nights where I felt most lonely, missing out on the simple act of spooning and being held and maybe kissed.
Around 1am, with the film close to finishing, I heard footsteps and the creak of the old floorboards in the stairs as someone came down. I glanced at the door as whoever it was hesitated, and then the door pushed forward and Danny's head peaked in.
"Hey," he said softly. "What you watching?"
