Acting On Love

Kristen's Point of View

I'd been waiting in front of his car for about 10 minutes when I began to wonder if something was wrong. I was just walking back through the black, metal gate again when Ville appeared, coming out of the front door. For some reason he looked a little. . .fed up. But as soon as his eyes looked up to meet mine, his features seemed to come together again, and he was smiling. This was probably one of the strongest smiles I'd ever seen on his face. . .and I'd seen quite a few.

He shut the door behind himself, without breaking eye contact with me, and came down the stone path towards me. I still didn't understand why he was so. . .happy. Maybe he'd spoken to his mother? Maybe she did like me after all? It didn't matter. . . something had made him happy - that was all that mattered.

As soon as he reached me, he immediately pulled me into a deep, warm hug. I heard him take a deep breath into my thick hair. He exhaled a few moments later. After a good few minutes, he took his arms away and held me in front of him. His smile was smaller now, but it was still there - at the corners of his lips.

"Do you know how much you mean to me?" he asked quietly, holding my eyes with his.

Looking into his eyes, I felt every word I tried to grasp and say abandon me. But I could feel my heart responding to what he'd said - it began to beat almost frantically, as if he'd just breathed life into it.

"Kristen?" he asked softly when I never answered him. "I'll tell you the answer, then," he said, laughing quietly. His eyes turned serious again as he geared up to say the next line. "You mean the world to me. . ."

I still couldn't find any words which could explain how I felt in that moment. So instead of saying anything, I just nodded slightly. I would have kissed him if I hadn't felt so light headed. He laughed when I nodded, and I felt my cheeks start to burn slightly in the embarrassment. Would I always act so stupid whenever he said something so sweet?

He wrapped an arm round my shoulders and lead me back towards his car.

"Thanks," I finally said, as he opened the door. "I. . . I feel exactly the same way."

He grinned. "I'm glad I said it, then."

It was only when we got in the car together that we realised how late we were for our reservation. But neither of us seemed willing to freak out over that to spoil the happiness which seemed to be radiating off of both of us.

As I reached round to grab my seatbelt, I couldn't help but notice something - Ville's mother standing in the window of his apartment, looking down at us. She turned away and walked into the room when our eyes met. I couldn't help but feel a cold suspicion sweep over me. I looked back at Ville, who was putting the key into the ignition.

"Ville. . ." I said quietly as the car roared to life.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he asked, smiling. I felt bad for what I was about to ask - it would no doubt banish that smile of his. But I knew I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it if I didn't. . .

"Did you. . .talk to your mother while I was waiting?"

He paused, and looked at me with a mixture of emotions. "Yes, I did," he admitted, sighing. He obviously knew what I was going to ask about.

"She doesn't like me, does she?" I asked, looking out of the window and back at his apartment.

"She. . .knows that you're my student. That's all that she doesn't like," he said, beginning to drive, leaving the apartment behind us.

"How does she know?" I asked, surprised.

"I don't know. Somehow she could see it." His voice sounded completely honest.

"Well, that's just great. . ." I mumbled, looking out of the window again.

"Hey," Ville said, drawing my attention back to him. "I'm not going to let my mother come between us, ok?"

"Ok," I replied in a voice that didn't sound like my own. It sounded far too hopeless.

Somehow Ville managed to cheer me up a lot more during the meal at the restaurant. Of course, it wasn't an expensive restaurant - neither of us could afford that. But it was still rather romantic. Well, that could have just been because of the man I was there with. . .

We talked and talked, sipping the wine occasionally as we waited for our meals. Ville had a lot more wine than myself, although it only seemed to make conversation more amusing when he was slightly tipsy. We discussed music, and which older bands had a bigger influence on the music of today. Ville's vote was with Black Sabbath, which I had predicted it would be. Mine was with Bon Jovi - I couldn't help but feel loyal to them after my teenage obsession I'd had with them and Mr. Jon Bon Jovi.

When the waitress came and asked us for our orders, Ville asked if they did any birthday cakes.

The waitress looked confused. "Sorry, Sir," she shook her head. "Why, is it your birthday?"

"Sure is," he answered, raising his glass of wine. I couldn't help but laugh.

The waitress looked between us and smirked. "In that case I'll call for the special birthday meal, if that's what you'd like."

"Thank you very much, sweetheart. Why don't you join us?"

She giggled before she turned away and headed to the restaurant's kitchen. I smiled to myself from where I sat.

"Sorry, Kristen. . .I wasn't expecting to drink this much. Just let me get some food in my stomach and I'll stop acting like a terrible comedian," he said, laughing.

I smiled slightly. Ville was funnier when he was tipsy, but he'd called everyone in the restaurant we talked about (or to) 'sweetheart'.

When the 'special birthday meal' eventually did come, a bunch of waiters came bursting through the doors of the kitchen, each carrying part of a mini buffet in their hands and on their arms. They set down the food on the table and wished Ville a happy birthday before they headed off back into the kitchen.

"Oh. . .I at least expected a birthday song with that!" Ville said, laughing as he picked up his cutlery.

"Come on. . .let's get some food down you," I said, beginning to feel quite distant from Ville when he was in this state.