All You Want for the Holidays (Home for the Holidays)

4. Inari

Chapter 4

Inari

P errin has a special way of making me open up. It means I can blame her for how readily I surrender to our circumstances.

It would’ve been easy to have meals separately. Easy to stay in my room because my craft just needs a laptop, some paper and a pen. Or if I wanted, I could use the living room, or the outdoor space. There is no scarcity of places to work when there’s just the two of us.

Somehow she makes it easier to just agree to be friends again than to exist as professional acquaintances. Getting along with my residency partner is a good idea. But in practice, it means succeeding in what I failed at for six years of high school: seeing Perrin as just a friend.

Tell me how I’m supposed to think and act when Perrin cooks us brekkie the next morning and brings it to my desk. When Perrin slides her chair opposite mine and asks me all about my book. When she goes on about what uni was like for her, including the annoying commute, group projects, and how weird it was to see our old classmates doing courses we never expected them to pursue. The jumping conversation doesn’t surprise me when it’s Perrin.

It’s endearing that her desire to catch me up with what’s been happening for her still exists because so little words have left my mouth about my time between before and now . I can’t bring myself to tell her about the experiences that I retroactively excluded her from. I also didn’t want to remember my attempts at getting over her—trying to pursue another romance, losing myself to studies, stacking hobbies and work so I wouldn’t have time to think. Perhaps getting over her coincided with running away from real life.

Was it possible to get it right this time? When Perrin seems even kinder now than she used to be?

We take a break to have a light lunch, which I prepare since Perrin did breakfast. After that, Perrin goes off to take some pictures.

My old habits remain. I escape reality by immersing myself in my novel, playing each scene in my mind as I scribe dialogue and description. A wind of motivation flies through me as I write something more literary than genre for the first time ever. I wonder to myself if my character’s perspective is too pretentious. If their thoughts are not as profound as I think they are. The scene goes on and I begin to question if I’ve written enough context or if the world building spread throughout the book will be enough.

As I approach the end of a chapter, my phone chimes and I’m pulled away from my laptop. I didn’t realise that a couple hours had passed. It’s both exhilarating and concerning how much writing a story can pull me in.

I flip my phone into my hand and check the messages.

Leila Chen

when will I see you for crimmy btw xx

I forgot to ask before you left lol

What?

Why are you calling it that

Leila Chen

you know what I mean

And you’re lucky for that.

I’ll come visit next tuesday.