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It was snowing in London. Great, giant, white flakes that were coating everything they touched. When we had walked into our meeting at 3 it had been cloudy but the sun was trying to peak it’s way through but when we made our way out of the building two hours later everything was absolutely coated. Phil had looked up at the sky in wonder, the flakes sticking to his hair and falling onto his glasses. He was grinning like a kid in a candy shop and I couldn’t help returning the smile. Instead of heading in the direction of our apartment he pulled me toward a small pub that we sometimes went to. It was deserted and warm, the lights dim making it feel more homey than a pub probably should. We snagged a booth in the corner and shed our wet coats as soon as we sat down. I ordered a glass of wine and Phil ordered a raspberry beer, making me chuckle.
“What?” he asked incredulously. I shook my head and smiled.
“You have to get something sweet, even when you’re getting a beer.” He gently poked me with his toe. Our drinks were delivered and we lapsed into a comfortable silence. We could see the snow fall from our booth and we both watched for a while, lost in our thoughts. The snow always made me feel reminiscent. Brought me back to stolen chunks of time in Manchester with Phil and his family. Filming his Christmas Adventure, visiting abandoned hospitals, making snow angels. I couldn't help smiling thinking about it and when Phil raised an eyebrow at me questioningly at me I simply shook my head and took a sip of my wine.
We sat and talked for what seems like hours. The conversation between us, as always, never failed to falter. It flowed flawlessly between banting, to serious conversations. He let me waffle about the newest music hole i’d fallen into and i listened as he vented his frustrations about the video game he’d been trying to complete. Our drinks stay refilled, our laughter getting a little more pronounced as the evening progressed. When he suggested going home I couldn’t help but pout. The wine was delicious, and the pub was warm and cozy, and it was still snowing outside. I saw no reason to leave I told him. He giggled but pulled me out of the booth and helped me to my feet. His hands stayed on mine for a moment longer than necessary once i was stood up but he pulled away to grab his coat before I could decide if it was intentional or not.
When we made our way outside to wait for our taxi, the snow was still falling gently. In the few moments while we are stood on the curb we were both covered in white flakes and shivering. When we got into the taxi Phil slid in next to me closer to the middle rather than his own side. I didn’t protest because he was warm, and smelled good, and being next to him felt a bit like being home. I brought my hand to my face and felt how warm my cheeks were, despite the cold and a small giggle left my lips.
“What?” Phil asked quietly, pressing a little closer to me.
“I think I’m a little tipsy,” I said, taking my hand from my face. He surprised me and brought his hand to my face and cupped my cheek, feeling the warmth for himself. He smiled, making the corners of his eyes crinkle in the way that I loved.
“Maybe just a little,” he whispered. I giggled again and he dropped his hand but placed it on my knee. I glanced down and then back up at him.
“Is this okay?” He asked gently. I nodded and smiled. I scooted over so we were pressed together on the seat and he smiled at me. This felt familiar; it felt like I was 18 again, testing the boundaries of what physical affection meant between friends. It felt like 19 and being in love with your best friend and knowing they loved you back. Being able to be together and not have to question your every move and action. But not all good things last and sometimes being in love doesn’t fix things, even when you’re in love with your best friend. And I knew I was lucky to still have my best friend, even after drama and months and months of tension and trying to rebuild this thing between us.
Here it was though, that spark. That familiar pull telling me to lean into Phil, because who else could have eyes that blue? And be that pale but still be so ridiculously gorgeous? Who else made me feel like I was still 18 and falling in love for the first time? Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was years of still wanting things to work out between us but I felt myself lean in towards him. There was half a second where I was scared he wouldn’t feel the same, that maybe I’d been reading him wrong, but I let it go because I trusted my instincts and I trusted Phil to catch me if I was gonna make that jump.
And he did, as soon as i leant forward he was too and his lips were meeting mine. It wasn’t fireworks and explosions. It was like warmth and joy. Like coming home after a long, wearing journey. Like that first cup of coffee in the morning. Happiness bloomed in my chest and I effectively ruined the kiss with the smile I could not wipe off my face. Phil pulled back and cupped my jaw, rubbing his thumb across my cheek.
“I’ve missed you,” he said. I nodded, a bit too love drunk at that moment to respond quiet as eloquently as I would have liked. I leaned in again and captured him in another kiss. I had years and years worth of kisses I needed to make up for, and my wine addled brain was not in the mood for conversation.
“Wait!” I gasped, and then shushed myself, making Phil chuckle.
“Are you sure about this? Like this isn’t just because you’re drunk is it?” In the back of my mind I knew this probably wasn’t the case, but my heart was on the verge of being fully invested and I had to at least say tried to be mature and reasonable. Phil took both of my hands in his and looked me in the eyes.
“I’ve wanted this for years. I never stopped wanting this, and I know,” he raised a hand to gently quiet me as I started to protest, “that us breaking up wasn’t just you. It was a mutual decision. It was the right decision at the time, and I think that if we hadn’t we might not have made it, and you might have became this incredible person that you’ve become.” I blushed furiously and looked down at our hands. He raised my head to look at him again. “But just to be clear, I never stopped loving you, and I hope you feel the same.” I surged forward and kissed him again, not being quiet as gentle this time.
“Of course I love you too, you spork.” Phil laughed and pulled me into a hug. I tucked myself into his chest and listened to his heartbeat and watched the snow fall from the window. I knew it was cold outside, but in the back of the taxi I was warmer and happier than I had ever been. There was a real, sober, conversation ahead of us in the morning, but I was content to stay where I was for the time being. I felt like I was finally home.