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Rita hated New Year parties. The city was a nightmare to get around any time after six, even more so if she wanted to get home any time before three. They never lived up to expectations, and the one moment they all stayed awake for always ended the same. With her standing in a corner, watching everyone else kiss their loves, before getting a pathetic hug or two in the aftermath, and the occasional quip of oh, well, maybe next year!
But she knew too many people going to this year’s festivities, too many were asking if she would be there too, and her absence would’ve been more than noticed. So she pulled out the closest thing she could find from her work wardrobe that could be considered a party dress, put on a quick swipe of makeup and the nearest pair of heels, and booked the car to Olivia’s apartment in Midtown.
It was pleasant enough, no one even acknowledged the fact that she turned up alone, again, the conversations a nice change of pace to the usual high-brow dinners and champagne towers. But the sting was just as biting, seeing most of the others in the room so loved up, varying from the still new, fresh-faced honeymoon phases to the simple, domestic bliss of the happily settled.
All for a few stragglers in the corners of the room, making light-hearted small talk over glasses of wine and the platters of party food, one of whom she half expected to be there, but still felt her heart spike when it was confirmed by her very eyes.
Rafael, in a shirt and jeans yet still managing to look like he made more of an effort than that, laughing at something Amanda said before looking across the floor, spotting her and flashing a brief smile, brief enough to throw Rita off, causing her to beeline to the kitchen for a fresh drink.
Alex’s voice was a nice distraction as she snuck up behind her, from the bottles on the counter that clattered while Rita searched for the right one to top up her glass.
“Sorry, we should’ve mentioned he was coming.”
“It’s fine.” She asserted, not looking up as she carefully poured out the fizz, watching it just bubble to the rim of her glass before settling back to a more sensible measure.
“… Think you two can behave yourselves?”
She picked up her glass, feigning shock at the insinuation before taking a sip.
“… Of course.”
Her tone was suspiciously sweet, but they all knew, really. They should’ve seen it coming.
The night was starting to drag, but Rita knew that any hint of wanting to go home before the ball drop would be met with scorn. She could not have picked a worse month to finally quit smoking, audibly groaning at the unfamiliar absence of a pack in her purse. A lot of the time it just served as a good excuse to get some fresh air when she needed it.
She headed out to the balcony anyway. Much smaller than the one back at her own apartment, she slid the door closed and turned to lean her arms on the railing. She could hear the parties in the distance, the roaring crowd over at Times Square and car horns beeping in celebration or frustration. The occasional siren cutting through the noise, if she hadn’t known better it might’ve been just another day in the city.
The fingers of her free hand fumbled for something else to do other than light up, settling for clasping over the other on her glass, taking a quiet enough moment for herself as life went on around her.
That was, until, her peace was disturbed once more by the door sliding open behind her.
“So how’s quitting going?”
She looked back at the too-familiar voice, trying her best not to roll her eyes as she turned around again. He could always read her like a book, and it wasn’t an easy skill to master, or forget.
She pursed her lips to hide the smirk, staring down at the dwindling contents of her glass.
“… It sucks.” She sighed.
Rafa, unfortunately, took their conversation as an invitation, once again, sliding the door closed and assuming the same position as her, right by her side over the railing.
“Honestly, I’m impressed. Feels weird seeing you without one.”
She looked confused, “Wasn’t so weird back in college?”
“Oh yeah, back when every one you had was your last ever?” He scoffed a little, “Although that seemed to go out the window the minute we started studying for the Bar—”
“Did you need something?” She interrupted, “Or are you just going to stand there twisting my balls?”
“Just letting you know they’re tuning in to the ball drop in there. Couple minutes left, if you wanted to come back inside for it.”
It was the last thing she wanted to do, really. Even if she could hear the static excitement in the air below, the faint party music getting louder, the chatter inside increasing in pitch.
“… Nah, think I’m good, actually.”
She always had a habit of making her melancholic moods everyone else’s problem, it was one of the things that forced Rafa to keep her at arm’s length for so many years now. Nothing anyone could do was enough to make her happy, she always had to find it for herself, no matter how many hints were dropped.
“So, is this some kind of resolution or something?” He nodded to her hands.
“You know I hate resolutions.” She grumbled. “That whole New Year, New Me bullshit, it’s all dumb as hell. If you want to do something, just do it already…” She almost smirked as she started to reminisce. On chances taken, chances fumbled, “… You remember that time you tried to rope me into a New Year’s kiss?”
“Yeah. You slapped me so hard I can still hear ringing sometimes.”
“You were drunk, and being an ass about it, you had that coming.”
“… I know.”
They said all the rest they needed to about that night in particular in the look exchanged. They really were the thorn in each other’s sides. A thorn stemming from roses, perhaps. Hidden smirks and inquisitive stares, knowing the most intimate parts of each other yet veiled, still, in just enough mystery to entice.
“I think you might have it all wrong, though.” He took another stab in the dark.
She raised a brow. “… Really? And why would that be?”
He started to wring his hands together, as he always did whenever he was mustering up the courage. “Look, you’re right, it is all a little cheesy—”
She scoffed to interrupt, “We finally agree on something—”
“But—”
“There it is—”
“Will you let me get a word in?”
She huffed, stopping herself, letting him continue on, even if it all did make him sound like a hopeless romantic. Pathetic, really, in her eyes.
“I was going to say, it is cheesy, but, at least I get why people do it… they want to reaffirm their commitment, that’s their person, that they want to spend the next year with—”
He chose to ignore her rolling her eyes to herself.
“—this time of year sucks, and I know you know that, people deserve at least that much to hold onto.”
“People need to get a grip.” She scoffed, again.
“You know that sitting out here, being miserable, doesn’t make you any better than the rest of us?”
She turned to him, slowly, her expression completely flat. “… Excuse me?”
But he was undeterred. If there was one thing he knew about Rita, it was her ability to put up a good enough front that could fool anyone. Almost anyone.
“Will you ever let yourself be happy?”
“Oh, you’re unbelievable…” She stood up from the railing, posturing, but the excited chants from all sides started punctuating her ranting.
“Ten…!"
“What makes you think I’m not happy? Is it the fact that you—"
“Nine…!”
“—broke it off with me? You want me to get on my knees and beg to get you back? Is that it? Or is it—"
“Eight…!”
“—the fact I’m managing perfectly fine without you? That I don’t actually need your validation?! Because newsflash, I never did…!”
“Seven…!”
Even as she ranted, all the past versions of her flashed before Rafa’s eyes. The passionate freshman at mock trial who won him over from the moment their eyes met, the night at the bar after finals, her smile bright under the low light, the dark stare she’d perfected from across the courtroom…
“Six…!”
All the past versions of him flashed before Rita’s eyes while she verbally tore them down. Even the ones she still admired, that still glowed in the back of her mind…
“Five…!”
The grad student sitting at the end of her bed, textbook in his lap while they quizzed each other on terminology, the cocky know-it-all smirk he’d perfected from across the courtroom. Even the doe-eyed freshman at mock trial, that won her over from the moment their eyes met…
“Four…!”
Her tirade seemed to lose steam. Of course she wasn’t angry at him. At chance and circumstance, maybe, at every way the universe seemed to pull the two of them together, despite neither believing in a higher power that was even capable of such a deed.
Her shoulders dropped in defeat, the venom dissipating from her tongue. She wanted to hate him, she wanted to hate the part of her that forced her not to hate him. But time and time again her heart would betray her mind, wondering what just one more night might feel like—
“Three…!”
His hands sneaking around her waist threw her off, so caught up in all the anticipative noise around them, she couldn’t think two steps ahead of herself anymore, her breath catching in her throat.
“What are you doing—?!”
“Two…!”
He finally spoke up again, only to say, “Will you shut the fuck up for two seconds?”
“Excuse me—?!”
“One…!”
She was cut off before she could finish chastising by his lips crashing into hers. With enough force, and only a little surprise, to send the two of them stumbling back a few steps, until her back hit the wall. But her eyes, initially widened with surprise, soon fluttered shut of their own volition.
The party’s cheers and jubilations grew quiet to them, muffled in their ears, only knowing the familiar scents and tastes of each other, warmed with champagne. The fireworks in the distance paled in comparison to the ones sparking in the decreasing space between. Their hands wandered over each other’s clothes, over the so familiar curves and creases, falling right back into place.
She lifted a leg up to rest near his hip, her hands around the back of his neck and into his hair, feeling him pulling her closer by the thigh, keeping it upright. More breathless kisses escaped between them, tongues dancing their familiar dance, Rafa now even more enticed by the fresher taste on hers.
Rita broke away with a gasp, resting her head back, giving him room to leave even more down the column of her neck where she applied her perfume, suckling lightly enough to not leave a mark.
“Your place is closer, right?” He finally rasped, his free hand moving down her back, lightly groping at her ass.
“Yeah.” She murmured back, pulling him even closer.
“You wanna get out of here?”
The dark look in his eye matched hers, just like it always did.
“… Obviously.”