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“So, are you ever going to tell me how old you are this year, Gustav?”
“I believe that is confidential. But if you really want an answer, I’ll say twenty-five.”
There was a warm chuckle shared between them as they stretched out on the sofa in his lonely apartment, surrounded by stacks of manuscripts that were likely never finished as well as a shared bottle of wine half full and two wine glasses that were half empty but had been full twice before. It was a birthday celebration like no other, given he had little family to celebrate with besides his sister, though she was out tonight, leaving him and Jacquelyn alone to pour over both some of his film collection and his cheap wine.
His eyes flickered to his projector and the stacks of film reels. Most of them were films they had made together and as he came to yet another birthday, it did make him think about just how long they had been working together. The memory, like most of better times, brought a smile to his face.
“What are you grinning for?”
Realizing he’d gone quiet in his reverie, Gustav’s attention was pulled to her once more though the smile didn’t falter. “My apologies. I was merely thinking about what we should watch. Any ideas?”
“Do you remember that short film we made when we were teenagers? The one about ah… the haunted photographs. I loved that one.”
Of course he did. He remembered working on the script in the library, curled up in a big armchair as they discussed until the library closed and she’d laughed at him when he asked if Cornelia sounded too much like someone’s grandmother or governess. He remembered how the original photograph props they’d used had flown away in a gust of wind and he had to climb a tree just to get them out and she had to fetch a ladder in case he fell. He remembered the time they had to shoot a scene where their two characters were trapped in a closet and it took almost fifteen takes because being so close to one another made them burst into giggles. He remembered having to miss a rehearsal due to a lost voice, and she had practically barged into his room with a bag of lozenges and herbal tea. Of course he remembered it all.
“I should still have it. I don’t ever seem to throw anything out.” Gustav knew exactly where it was.
Heaving himself off his couch, only a little tipsy as of now, he moved to the long line of shelves of his movies. His fingers brushed over the ones he had created himself before putting in the one in question.He settled back beside Jacquelyn though a little closer than before, his hand moving almost automatically to her leg though he barely noticed and she didn’t say anything. Two more glasses were filled to the top of the brim and sipped again.
The film started and he was already a little embarrassed. They looked younger, younger than they definitely felt now. The camera shook all over the place, though it made sense as Sally would have been too young to help him film, and his acting was far from spectacular, still looking like he was nervous to be on screen. But there was something about it that made his heart still beat just a little bit faster. Maybe it was just because it was nice to be reminded of a time that was simpler and happier. One that was much quieter.
“You were cute back then. What ever happened to that haircut?” A smile mused on her lips as she turned to him.
“I suppose you could say it grew on me.”
Another chuckle was shared between them, though there was more of an intoxicated buzz as their glances at each other seemed to last just a few seconds too long than any look shared between two work-proximity associates properly should. His mouth was left slightly ajar, usually a rather unflattering look on most, but that didn’t stop her from leaning in, placing a kiss on the edge of his open lips.
Later they would both blame the following events on the alcohol, but they knew as adults that alcohol had no real fault in the matter.
He was pushed back against the couch, thankfully removed of any sort of sharp books he could hit his head on, though her force was impressive enough as is. As a rather handsome man who was some semblance of a movie star, one might assume that he was much more experienced in what to do when a woman you’ve cared about for several years is kissing you, and in some ways it came to him naturally like every stage kiss they’d ever shared, but at the same time, his hands clumsily holding onto her sides. It was hard not to be flustered and he was very much so. The kisses were sloppy and forceful, everything he tried not to be, but he loved it far too much.
Then she stopped, her hand resting on his chest and her mouth hovering near his ear, her hot breath tickling him as he desperately tried not to chuckle.
“Happy birthday, Gustav.”
Happy birthday, indeed.