He’s staring at me again. As if I don’t have enough to deal with as it is, he’s his eyes are boring holes through my back! I try to concentrate on the task before me; bringing Christmas to the Valenti household. It’s not as easy as I expected. Jim and Kyle haven’t had a real Christmas around here in a long, long time. Besides, it’s not like Nasaedo and I celebrated the holiday season every year either. I’m just taking my cues from pop culture and, of course, Isabel. As much as she may fit her nickname as the “Christmas Nazi,” she really is a lot of help. Anyways, I figure that anything I can manage is better than what the Valenti guys have done is previous years. God, he’s still staring at me! It freaks me out, but it also makes me feel strangely nice. Because his eyes aren’t threatening, they’re full of pride, admiration…and love. Nobody’s ever looked at me like that before, and I think I like it. And, well, Kyle has done it a lot lately. There’s no denying the attraction between us, but I can’t let myself give in to it. What happened to all my preaching about our destiny? About how we can’t get attached to humans at any cost? Now when I’m around Kyle, or even when he looks at me like that, my reasoning and excuses (not to mention my knees) seem impossibly weak. Now I’m the one falling for a human.

Once dinner (which was surprisingly good, I’d eat that over tv dinners any day) is finished, Tess starts doing dishes. She’s done so much already; I figure the only honorable thing to do is help. Besides, I can’t let her out of my sight. I spring out of my chair a little faster than I indented to, which gets me a raised eyebrow from Mrs. DeLuca. I smile politely at her and fumble my way around the table, making a beeline for the kitchen. Tess stands there with her back to me, fully concentrated on scrubbing a pot, humming lightly under her breath. She whirls around when she hears the door shut softly behind me, and I feel a little tug at my heart. She’s never looked prettier than right now, with her hair tied back messily and yellow rubber gloves covering her hands. And, because she has destiny, I’ll never have her. She cocks an eyebrow at me, which brings me back to reality and the realization that I’ve been standing there like an idiot, staring once again.

“I, uh, though you might want some help in here. Because this is, um, a lot…of dishes, that is...” I manage. *Real smooth, Valenti. Show off that intellectual side, why don’t ya?*

“Yeah, ok, thanks.”

“Ok!” I say a little too loudly, slapping my thighs and moving to stand next to her. “So…”

“Why don’t I wash them, and you can dry them and put them away?” She offers, collected as always. I can’t help but smile.

“Sounds good.”

Wait, did I just give him two jobs and only give myself one? Shit. What’s he gonna think now? He doesn’t seem to mind too much; in fact he’s even smiling. I smile back. Why not? At least we got the awkward conversation part out of the way. We work for the next half hour in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the running water, clinking silverware, and Jim and Amy’s laughter from the next room. Every few minutes I sneak a glance at him out of the corner of my right eye. His sleeves are rolled all the way up, and I love to watch his muscular arms reaching to put cups and plates on high shelves. A wisp of his brown hair keeps falling front of his face, and he flicks his head to get it out of the way, giving me great view of his muscular neck and adorable face. At on point, he catches me looking. Geez, now who’s staring at who? He grins sheepishly and his eyes dart to the floor, and I just want to kiss him right there.

Is she looking at me again? *No, Valenti, she was never looking at you in the first place!* I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I put away the last plate.

“So…” Tess says, tossing her gloves into the sink. “All finished?” I nod dumbly.

“Guess so,” For once, I’m not glad that I’m done with the dishes. All of a sudden, her eyes meet mine, and for one incredible moment, I think that maybe she isn’t either. Embarrassed, I reach for closest distraction: a dishtowel sitting on the counter. However, it seemed like she had the same idea because now we’re both holding onto the dishtowel, our fingers touching. I feel a charge rush through my arm and my skin crawls, but in a good way. I laugh nervously, trying futilely to cover up the awkward moment, and feel blood rushing to the tips of my ears. *Valenti, gotta work on this blushing thing, man.* She turns away, is that a slight shade of crimson on her face? No, couldn’t be.

“Well..uh…” She says hesitantly, “Where do these go?” She motions to a large serving plate and punch bowl, the only dishes left on the counter.

“Oh, well, we don’t use those too much, so we keep them in the basement,” I reply, relaxing a little. If we could only get a conversation started! “Wanna help me bring them down?”

“Sure!” she says, obviously glad for the distraction. Her eyes sparkle at the new task, and God, I want to kiss her.

I grab the platter, and it’s a little heavier than I expected, but I quickly recover and flash Kyle a smile. I’m so confused, I can’t decide whether to love or hate this. The way he talks, moves, even his presence makes me all happy and giddy inside. On the other hand, this is so frightening I think my head might just explode. If only he weren’t quite so sweet, or charming, or handsome, or…

“Tess?” He inquires from the doorway. My head snaps up. “You coming?” I just nod; I can’t even manage a reply. What an airhead, how can he even stand to be around me?

We descend though the doorway, where Kyle bats away something hanging near his head. We continue downstairs into the musty basement, which is filled with boxed labeled “Tools,” “Photos,” “Kyle’s Room.” I’m curious, but I don’t touch anything. I simply stand and watch, struggling to hold the heavy plate, as Kyle rummages for a box marked “Silverware.” Once he finds it, he gingerly sets the punch bowl inside with surprising care. Then he steps back and I put the platter on top of it, acutely aware that he is only a few feet behind me. I turn around and force a smile through my nervousness, then lead the way back upstairs. I stop at the doorway to wait for him. I motion for him go in ahead of me, but being the gentleman that he is, he stops to wait to for me to go through. We stand there staring at each other for second, and then we both try to plunge though at the same time. My pulse starts racing even faster than before at the close physical quarters. We are body to body in the doorframe, his muscular frame pressing against my thin one. As much as I’m enjoying this, it’s very awkward, and we both struggle to get out, discovering to both my delight and dismay, that we’re stuck. “Hoo boy,” Kyle mumbles, and I feel his breath stir the blond hair on the crown of my head. Trying to look anywhere but my face, he looks up. I’m busy staring at what I can see of my shoes when I hear him say something else: “Uh…” I glance up to see what he’s staring at, and now can see why he’s fixated: mistletoe.

Mistletoe. What a cliché. Still, this may be the perfect opportunity to do what I’ve wanted to do for the past few weeks, especially the past two hours. We’re both staring at the that insignificant little plant, when she says, “Mistletoe,”

“Yeah,”

“Mistletoe,” She nods slightly, “So…”

“Yeah.” For some reason, I’m more comfortable now than I have been all evening. So comfortable, in fact, that I have nerve to put my hand on her hip, the other on her cheek. And I slowly lower my face closer to hers, checking her eyes to make sure this is ok. She staring intently at me, but seems concentrated on the moment, with no intentions of pulling away. Slowly, ever so slowly, I lower my head and our lips touch softly.

My eyes slide closed as I press my mouth to his, in sweet and simple yet passionate and amazing kiss. All of my thoughts about our destiny, my species, are gone, I’m concentrating on him and now. This feels so good, so right, while nothing with Max ever did. We pull away gently, still making no move to remove ourselves from the doorway. My arms are wound around his neck and his hands are on my waist and cheek, but it’s so comfortable, while a simple brush of our hands was so awkward only a few minutes ago. Right now, there’s no place I’d rather be.