Acting On Love

After we'd finished our tea in an awkward silence, Ville's parents decided to move on into his small living room. They had obviously sensed the tense atmosphere, just as I had. Ville was sitting next to me, smiling broadly. His hand had been wrapped round mine under the table the whole time.

I slowly took my hand from his and stood up to close the kitchen door behind them quietly. I turned back to him. He looked confused.

"Your mother doesn't like me. . ." I whispered, brushing my hands over my face, panicking just slightly.

He smiled a little and stood up. He stepped towards me and took my hands down from my face. He kissed each of my hands before setting them down by my sides.

"Really, Ville. . . What did she say about me?" I asked after realising how he'd been successfully distracting me.

He let out a quiet, long sigh and looked at the floor before answering. "She. . .thinks you're too young for me."

"Oh, no. Is it really that obvious?" I asked, feeling my heart begin to race again.

He put a finger to my lips as his eyes flickered to where the living room would be through the walls. Then he looked back to me. "I don't care what she thinks. Anyway, she'll love you once she gets to know you. . ."

"You think so?" I questioned.

He nodded and smiled before bringing me into his arms.

"You should have warned me that they were coming. . . I would have dressed up or something," I sighed.

He laughed quietly into my hair. "I'm sorry. They only called yesterday that they were flying over for my birthday. They're staying in a hotel tonight, and they're flying back to Finland after they've seen New York."

"Wow, you have nice parents. . ." I said, feeling my thoughts drift off to my own parents, who I hadn't seen in a long while. Just a few phone calls here and there. . . The university seemed to have a way of making me forget about them. Or more like Ville did, at least.

He pulled away from my body and went to the table to collect the empty mugs. "Yeah, I guess I do," he said with a little laugh. He eyes seemed to notice my bag that sat on the floor beneath my chair. It was open and one of the presents was visible. "You got me a present," he said quietly. I could easily make out the surprise and pleasure in his voice. Yet it didn't stop my heart from beating wildly with anxiety. The moment of truth, I thought with a gulp.

He was still smiling as he cleaned up the mugs in the sink. I went over to my bag and gently pulled out the two small packages. I waited whilst he dried his hands and put the mugs away in the cupboard. He turned to face me and leaned back against the counter, smiling as he saw me holding them.

I stepped forward and passed them to him.

"Open this one first," I said, passing him the 'thoughtful' one. He smiled once more and weighed the package in his hands. "I'm sorry it's not much. . . I didn't have much money to spend," I said, feeling embarrassed.

"Kristen, it's fine. . ." he smiled. "It's the thought that counts, after all. And I can see you've been thinking about me. . ." he grinned, looking at the present in his hands.

Ah, the thought. At least he'd understand the present then. He began to unwrap the present carefully - his eyes were widen with anticipation. My heart didn't calm down in my chest. I subtly slid a hand behind my back and crossed my fingers for luck.

He let the wrapping paper flutter to the floor as he examined the small, folded black material in his hands. He slowly unfolded it, savouring each moment. Although I secretly wished he would hurry - my nerves were at their limit. After all, getting your boyfriend a crap present wasn't a good way to show them how you felt.

His eyes widened even more as he held up the black t-shirt in front of him. They opened up like two portals to his soul as a smile began to stretch across his face.

"Oh, Kristen. . ." he murmered, still seeming entranced with the t-shirt. He laughed lightly under his breath. My heart beat around frantically. I was hoping he would remember. . .

"Thank God you remembered. . ." I sighed a smile. He grinned and turned the t-shirt round and held it up next to his huge smile.

It was a Bon Jovi t-shirt. But not any old one. The one that I also owned - the one that he'd complimented when I'd first met him. That was one of my first memories of him. I don't think I'd ever forget the feeling he'd given me when he'd told me he liked it. Most of the people I knew didn't see band t-shirts as something to be worn in public. But Ville. . .I knew from those first times that I'd met him that he'd be different. . . More like me.

"Why would I forget?" he asked, laughing quietly. "I actually thought you'd be the one to forget. . . I was trying to single you out subtly - although I didn't think anything would happen at that point - and even though I knew you were my student I never thought to stop myself. . ." he mused, looking at the t-shirt again. "I'm glad I lost reason," he laughed.

I smiled. The t-shirt had done all I'd hoped it would have. And more, in fact. It had provoked memories in him, as it had done in me when I'd found it in town.

"Thank you, Kristen. I'll think of you whenever I wear it. . . "

This made my heart do summer-salts in my chest. The fact that he would think of me while he was wearing it. . .made me feel like I was part of him. Like part of me could always be with him now. Even if it was just a t-shirt. . .

This trail of thoughts in my mind made me laugh. Ville looked up from unwrapping the other present and looked confused, yet he still smiled.

"It's nothing. . ." I said, waving my hand to dismiss it. He chuckled to himself and continued unwrapping it. I felt less pressure on this present now, and I managed to enjoy watching him unwrap it.

He burst into a fit of laughter as he opened it. I was glad - that reaction was to be expected for this present. He held it up, still laughing. I hadn't expected him to laugh quite so much, though. . .

"Oh, Kristen. . . this is. . . where did you . . .it's . . . perfect!" he said in between laughs.

It was a black tie that read in white 'World's Best Teacher'. Beneath the writing was a small, white, cartoon picture of a man standing on a stage.

"I'm sorry," he said, catching his breath. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything. . .really, I do love it. I swear to God I'm wearing it on Monday!" he grinned, putting it on the counter on top of the t-shirt. He sighed in contentment. "Well, you just made my day. . ." he whispered, concentrating the best smile I'd ever gazed on at me.

"Come here. . ." he whispered again, stepping off the counter towards me. He brought my face into his hands and kissed my lips softly yet powerfully. His lips continued to move against mine for how long, I didn't know. I didn't care. I held him against myself as he showed me how grateful he was through one part of his body.