Chapter 91 Aitor
Aitor
I was stupidly excited.
Like—ridiculously, embarrassingly excited… and I swear it had nothing to do with the fact that I just got off on having my boyfriend roughly fuck my mouth in a public place…
It helped a lot, because, wow, that was hot…, but there was much more and it was of the rated G variety.
Holy shit, I hadn't felt this giddiness since I was five.
Which, considering everything, didn’t make much sense. I had exams coming up, a trip to prepare for, a hundred things I should’ve been focusing on… and yet, the only thing on my mind was this sweet, humble guy who didn’t have the slightest idea of how unbelievably amazing he was.
I hadn't known Aslan for that long, I knew that, but he was growing on me so fast that it sorta scared me a bit.
I’d been watching him lately, and man, he’d been running himself into the ground. Classes, training, the internship… He was carrying a lot of shit, on his body and on his head. I could see it in the way he rubbed his temples when he thought no one was looking, in the tension that never quite left his shoulders. In the pain behind that smile he forced every time he talked to his mother and couldn’t help her the way he wanted to.
I didn’t wanna be too nosy, but I knew she had some kind of condition that weighed heavily on him. And I hated that.
I didn’t want him to suffer. I just hoped he would trust me enough to tell me the things that bothered him so I could help.
He said he was fine.
He always said he was fine.
But he'd gone pale, clutching his chest a few times. Not as bad as the day he passed out, but still, they didn't look fine to me.
Aslan had asthma and blood pressure issues, and yeah, I knew people dealt with that all the time… but I didn’t like it.
It worried me.
I also knew he was missing our Christmas trip, and that really sucked. If it hadn’t been for that internship, I would’ve paid for the whole thing—whether he wanted me to or not. But that wasn’t the case, so… Plan B.
If he wasn’t getting Christmas in Canada, I’d bring Christmas to him.
Because if there was one thing I’d learned about Aslan, it was that he loved the season more than anyone I've ever known. And the truth was…
I kinda secretly missed it. You see? I hadn’t done any of this in years. Not really.
Not since—
I stopped myself there.
It didn’t matter.
I’d always thought that maybe one day I’d do all those things again with someone I cared about and remember how it felt.
For a long time, I believed that someone would be Linnea.
The girl who brought music back into my life when there was nothing but silence in it.
I didn't think it'd be her anymore. She broke my heart. Not by doing anything wrong—I loved her because she had always been nothing but good to me—but by not loving me back the way I loved her. By not choosing me over her career, when I would have chosen her over anything, at any time.
But right now—I shook those thoughts away—I had my angel.
Aslan was here. With me. And he made me smile like no other.
He had chosen me, and that meant a lot.
So yeah, if he wanted the full Christmas experience—every cliché, every ridiculous, “lame as fuck” tradition on the list—I was going to do it with him.
Every single one.
By the time we stepped out into the cold, side by side, I was already fighting a grin.
“You’re smiling like you’re about to commit a crime,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Only against my Grinch ways,” I winked, unlocking the car. “Get in, angel.”
He shook his head, but I caught the hint of a smile as he slid into the passenger seat.
I didn’t tell him where we were going.
That was half the fun.
By the time we reached downtown, the streets were already glowing. Today was their annual Christmas extravaganza.
Lights wrapped around every tree, every post, every window, turning the whole place into something out of a movie. Christmas music drifted softly through the air, mixing with laughter, voices, the crackle of fire from scattered burn barrels.
I parked near the main street and glanced at him.
Aslan was already looking out the window like a child seeing snow for the first time.
“Where are we?” he asked, eyes wide, already half smiling.
“The North Pole!” I said, grabbing the backpack from the backseat before stepping out.
I’d thought ahead and brought blankets, a thermos, and everything I could think of that might make this easier, warmer, better.
The cold hit instantly. He followed me, rubbing his hands together, breath visible in the air as I reached for him without thinking, lacing our fingers together and guiding him toward the crowd.
His hand in mine felt so real, so intimate that I closed my eyes for a second to take it all in.
“I love this already,” he said under his breath, almost to himself.
I wasn't the most adventurous, the strongest or funniest, but I knew how to plan, how to find the right activities, the perfect places… I would read a million reviews, coordinate events by time and location and add a couple extra ideas just in case something got screwed up, so yeah. It wasn't impressive or much, but it was one thing I could give.
He pulled on his gloves, thin and worn, his jacket barely enough for the temperature, and I noticed the slight tremor in his fingers as the cold crept in.
Something in my chest tightened.
“If this is just the preview,” I added with a grin, “we need to be ready for your hometown.”
He laughed, rubbing his hands together.
“It gets colder there. I used to put hand warmers inside my gloves and socks.”
I added “warm stuff” to my mental list.
There was so much I wanted to give him. So many small things he never asked for, and somehow, that made me want to give him more.
Without making a big deal out of it, I reached into my pocket.
“Well, for tonight,” I said casually, “I came prepared.”
He frowned slightly as I took his gloves off and replaced them with the pair I’d brought.
“These are better.”
He flexed his fingers, blinking in surprise.
“Oh, my God… where did you—?”
“Found them on one of the ski sites my parents used to shop from,” I shrugged. “You hold on to them. I’ve got plenty.”
That wasn’t exactly true.
But the way his face lit up?
Worth it.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
I wrapped an arm around him, walking through downtown and stopping for just about everything—decorations, lights, Christmas displays…
At the riverbank, he dragged me to the s’mores-making station by the fire, his hands sticky with chocolate as he tried to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it way too much.
“You’re supposed to burn the marshmallow!” Aslan corrected my technique with an eye roll, his voice full of playful authority. “Then, you scoop the burnt layer with your tongue…”
He demonstrated, his own tongue circling the charred sugar with something very close to a moan of pure pleasure before lapping at the melted, creamy center. I watched, completely captivated, by the way his lips closed around it and the blissed-out look on his face.
“Try!” he said, oblivious to the effect he was having on me. He brought the sticky, sweet mess to my lips, and as I leaned in to take a bite, his tongue—all sweet and sticky from the marshmallow—almost brushed against mine.
My breath hitched. I pulled back slightly, my eyes wide.
Aslan’s playful smirk softened, his gaze dropping to my mouth. The air between us crackled, the campfire’s warmth nothing compared to the heat suddenly blooming in my chest. I reached out, my fingers gently tangling in his hair.
“Let me taste that properly,” I murmured, my voice suddenly low and husky.
He closed the small distance between us, and his mouth was on mine. It wasn't a simple kiss. My tongue traced his lower lip, then slipped inside, tasting the sugar and chocolate on his tongue. He gasped into my mouth as I sucked gently, a soft, possessive pull that sent a jolt straight through the both of us.
“Hmm,” I hummed, watching his eyes sparkle in the firelight. “Delicious.”
I leaned in for another sticky kiss when a voice cut through the moment like a blade.
“Disgusting. I thought this was a family event.”
The words were loud enough to turn heads before I even registered them.
Before I even realized they were meant for us.
I turned.