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New Years was always spent at the Roosterteeth HQ. It was just the way things happened. Christmas we got with our family, New years? that was to be spent here, where we could get out of our fucking minds and not care if our family see because it was impossible for them to know.
fucking bliss right? with like elves pooping rainbows and unicorns pissing out Leprechauns that gave us fucking directions to gold and shit. Splendid. I’m not there, though, d’ya wanna know why? It’s because of this shithead beside me, the one with the massive fucking grin on his face, the cold staining his cheeks in a deep magenta, his blue - or green or whatever the fuck colour they were - eyes staring up at the ball that’s been stuck on a pole. It read 11:59:50. ten seconds. ten seconds with this fucking asshole looking like it was Christmas eve all over a-fucking-gain.
9 seconds and he turns to me, that smug as fuck grin on his face that I want to punch right off. I roll my eyes at him and suppress my own stupid as fuck grin. The piece of shit had a way of doing that, seemed to enjoy it when i fucking blushed, what a pussy. With his ‘bloody hell”s and his ‘Mi-COOL”s. Fuckin’ idiot.
8 Seconds and he’s laughing, forcing me to laugh along with him. Okay. Maybe i’m not as shitty about this as it would seem, I mean…if you could stay mad with a face like his then you are a legend and I would very much enjoy your number. No, I’m serious. Gimme it.
7 and 6 seconds really don’t seem to matter. the snow flakes are catching in our hair and the ball is slowly falling and everyone’s holding their breath apart from when the people around us are shouting at the top of their fucking lungs.
5 Seconds and they’re really getting loud now, some turning to their partners just in time to say the last sweet nothings of this year, telling their partner how this will be a new beginning and it’ll be the best year ever.
4 Seconds and I realise that everyday is a new beginning when waking up to this asshole. How he’ll sit in my lap purely to fuck up my gaming, how he’ll rub my back when I puke because I’ve drunken far too much. Again. How this British asshole will draw around my fucking tattoos to calm me down when i’ve had a nightmare. I don’t even have to fucking tell the piece of shit! He justknows!
3 Seconds and couples everywhere are now counting quietly, as if the countdown is their own personal one, as if the new year isn’t for everyone on the fucking planet, for them and for them alone. Gavin does this and I roll my eyes and scoff at him. Calling him a fucking idiot again. He doesn’t listen to me, though, never has. He hears my tone and apparently gets ‘I love you’ from it, of which he replies with a simple ‘I love you too, love.’ I roll my eyes and grab hold of his creeper scarf, both ends held in separate hands. He’s slightly taller then me and has to look down only slightly before curling his fingers in my hair.
2 Seconds and the ball is almost there. people are still counting down, pressing themselves against their loves ones, families huddled together, all rosy faced and seemingly quiet happy.
1 second and I don’t notice it even passed until the uproar of ‘Happy new year’ in my ear, Gavin laughing and pulling my lips to his, and for a long time that’s all I can think about, his lips on mine and how they still taste like the pizza we had earlier. The fight for dominance is always the same, but in the end it’s never boring. The fighting of tongues and teeth and tiny mewls that only one an other can hear. He gives in, giggling and tearing his lips from my own, both of our cheeks red and bright, but from anything but the cold.
"Happy new year, love’
"Happy fuckin’ new year."