Six: Valentine's Day

   "Mmm... Yes..." Katie groaned, as I kissed her neck, delicately pulling the zipper on the back of her dress down. It dropped down to the floor, revealing a black, lace bra and nothing else. She nimbly unbuttoned by dress shirt, tossing it aside, as I pulled her onto the bed.
   "I love you." She smiled, as I unhooked her bra, moving my lips further down my body.
   "I love you- mm, yes, oh Harrison!" She
   It was my first Valentine's Day in a real relationship; we'd felt so connected after our first date in early winter, we went out on another date, then another, and another. Her humor was divine, her soul absolutely fine. There was no question in my mind about whether or not I wanted to see her again. We'd made things official shortly after the fall semester, but decided against announcing it, because of the holiday stress. Wilson didn't seem to notice anything peculiar and I'm fairly certain Veronica was so focused on the fact that she'd be eighteen and a high school graduate soon, that she didn't care about what her big brother's love life was like.
   Two months after we'd officially declared ourselves boyfriend and girlfriend, I still hadn't mentioned it to anyone and neither had Katie. We weren't keeping it a secret, per se, we just weren't broadcasting it.
   After out love making -- I never thought that I, a twenty-one year old male would use that term, but it's what it was. It was a collision of love and sparks, it was two souls coming together to be one, it was something that made me wonder Wilson would joke about my testosterone levels, it was so wonderful -- she turned to look at me, her lips curling upwards, her eyes shining.
   "So, I hear that Mr. Harrison Hugo Colton has something planned that will absolutely blow me away."
   "I supposed it'll have to, after Miss. Katie Jocelyn Dalton literally blew-"
   "Hey!" She playfully flicked me, rolling her eyes. "This is why I'm the mature one in the relationship."
   "What can I say, I do have a thing for older, mature women." My comment was met with an eye roll, as she stood up and began shrugging on her disregarded garments. She was eleven months and two weeks older than me, a senior in college, while I was a junior. Our birthdays were exactly two weeks apart, it was like it was fate. "As much as I hate to say this, I'm glad you're getting dressed, I supposed I should do the same."
   "Where ever we're going probably wouldn't appreciate you showing up nude."
   "What if I had commissioned an art student to sketch up that way?"
   "Because nothing says I love you like seeing some art nerd draw my boobs."
   "Don't worry, we're actually going to the Rose Haven Tea House for brunch."
   "Well gosh darn, there goes the surprise." Whenever she was attempting to be over dramatic, she used the childish version of curse words, rather than say shit, she'd say poo, rather than say goddamn, she'd say gosh darn.
   "There's still a surprise." I took her hand, as we strolled out of her bedroom, out of the apartment, into the elevator, out of the lobby, and into her car. In a few minutes we were there.

   The Rose Haven Tea House had some lure about it being the most romantic spot in the town. It was quaint, run by an elderly British woman, and served delicious scones. It was also were we'd made things official. I led Katie into the garden, as she shivered slightly. Caught up in getting there, neither of us had bother to grab winter coats, which were needed during the frigid New England winter.

   "I love you, Harrison, but darling do we have to be freezing our asses off in the snow?" I nodded slowly.

   "You know, I had Chinese last week and my fortune cookie said that I'd spend the rest of my life with someone who spilled hot tea on me when we first met."
   "Wait, didn't- our first conversa- oh my God!" She looked down, her mouth forming a perfect O.
   "Please tell me that's a good 'Oh my God'. Katie, when I first met you... I knew it was you. You were adorable and witty and breath taking all in those first five minutes. As we've grown together, as we've learned more about one another, I've discovered that you're not just adorable, you're mind, body, and soul are gorgeous and they've completely captivated me. I've learned that you're not just witty, you're brilliant and generous and amorous and kind and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. I've learned that you don't just take my breath away, you take everyone's breath away the minute you walk into the room. Everyone you meet you manage to inspire, you want to make the world a better place, and I hope I'll be able to travel alongside you and help. I want to be with you every single step of the way and I hope you'll allow me to. Katie Jocelyn Dalton, will you marry me?"
   "Yes."
   "Yes?"
   "Yes." She nodded. "Yes, yes, yes! Oh my God, yes, of course... Harrison, God these past two months have been so wonderful and I don't know what I'd do without you, you said that I manage to inspire everyone, yet you inspire me. You want to help people and you're so passionate about caring for your sister and your parents and your best friend... Yes!"

   "I know I still have a year of college left and med school, we don't have to do this this year or next, hell we could wait a decade, as long as I get to spend that decade with you, I don't care how long we wait."
   "We don't have to wait, I sure as hell can't wait to be Ms. Katie Colton and the summer would be the perfect time for a wedding... I'm going to grad school in the middle of the country and they have a pretty good med school, we could figure something out."
   "A summer wedding would be great! And I could always transfer or something."
   "Yes! We could get a cute apartment, by great aunt's could go to my cousin... It'd work out absolutely lovely."
   We kissed again. We were engaged, with our futures shakily mapped out. There was snow swirling around us and our bodies were freezing, yet in that moment, we didn't need hats or mittens or coats, because our love warmed us.

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Two: The Dead Mr. W. H. Harrison

 Note: Odd chapters are Veronica's perspective, even are Harrison's

  Lyla Leviathan turned from her ZRX-9000, where she was analyzing some samples for an experimental psych class, and walked, almost sashayed over to her stack of notes. She leaned over the table, her lavender and magenta ombre hair shielding her notes from my view.
   She began couching, a wet hack, as her arm flew up to cover it. "Fuck this."
   I paused, staring at her. "Are you okay?"
   "I'm fine, just a-" She started coughing manically. "Sick. Sick, and tired of being sick."
    "You might want to go to the med center."
    "And what? See a doctor, like you?" She smiled coyly, while reaching for a tissue from the box on top of her ZRX-9000.

    "I'm premed, so technically not yet... soon, though." I turned back to the the samples, the corners of my lips rising, as she sauntered towards me.
    "Damn."
    "Why?" I smiled, pressing a few buttons.
    "Well, since you're going to be a doctor, I was hoping you'd figure this out for yourself, however," she sighed dramatically, leaning forward, "there are some fucking amazing pickup lines that come with having an M.D."
    "White coat syndrome at its finest." She smirked, rolling her eyes. She was inches from me, the familiar aroma of hours spent in a library, paging through musty books, of fresh brewed coffee, of perfumed vanilla, cozy like Christmas baking on a frigid winter night wafted into my nose.

    "We've been over this."
    "Have we?" 
    "White coat hypertension is when a patient has anxiety induced by being in a medical environment, you can test for it by measuring-"
   "To see if a patient has elevated blood pressure." I murmured, slipping my hands around her waist, resting them on the small of her back.
    "I knew you remembered." She stared into my eyes, levelly, gently parting her lips before closing them. We stood for a few seconds, her body pressed against mine, the machine whirling, the noises of the rest of the student bio research lab drifting through the cracked door. "Speaking of remembering..." She lifted an eyebrow, pressing her lips against my cheek.
    "How about you come back to my place for a physical?"
    "Solid pickup line, not brilliant, wouldn't try it at a bar, but, it works."
    "I'm presuming that's official physh major medical terminology."
    "I-" She began couching violently, tearing away from our embrace.

    "You're sick, you need to rest."
    "Ludicrous." She giggled, resting her head on my shoulder. "I just have pneumonia, I've got meds, I'm fine."
    "Lyla."
    "Harrison. So we aren't finally going to do this?"
    "When you put it so romantically how could I resist?"
    "It's bacterial, so not contagious, besides name one person that died from pneumonia."
    "I'm hoping that's a rhetorical question."
    "He shares your damn name." I shrugged; history wasn't my subject. "William Henry Harrison." My facial expression must have stayed blank, since she started listing his accomplishments. "The US president? Gave a speech for like two goddamn hours in frigid weather? Thirty day presidency? Ring a bell? The Dead Mr. W. H. Harrison?"
   "Ooh, that W. H. Harrison, I thought you meant my bioethics professor. Now, Lyla, c'mon, at least, fine, let me buy you coffee or get you back to your dorm." Wilson was finishing his project in the lab across the street and we were going to go to the grocery store to restock our pantry, since Veronica was living with us and the community college didn't have a cafeteria or meal plan, so she needed actual ingredients to cook, not just the beer, microwave pizza, Doritos, and ramen we normally ate if we were hungry but to lazy to get food from any of the campus' restaurants, but he could go on his own, he didn't need me pointing out what Veronica might like.
   "Dammit, I wish I could get coffee but generally I prefer my dated to have paid attention in US History in high school."
    "Lyla, I-"
    "I appreciate your concern, but we're not... Dammit, Harrison, why won't you listen to me when I say I'm fine? October colds and sniffles are so goddamn common, I... I think I am going to go rest." She stumbled past me, jabbing at the ZRX to turn it off, her brow furrowed and her lips turned down, twisted between melancholy and malcontentment.

   "Fuck." We weren't dating, we'd never discussed our lab flirtation; it was simple: someone would occasionally squeeze the others ass, someone would make a comment about how attractive the other was looking, we'd make comments about how the supply room was open or how our dorm or apartment was free from roommates, so we could finally do it, we'd make out then go back to doing our research. Occasionally she'd invite me to an art gallery displaying works done by community college students she'd tutored or was a TA for or took a class taught by one of her friends or something, occasionally I'd mention coffee or lunch, she'd say her and her friends were doing a color run and others were welcome, I'd say that I was going to a frat party and whoever could come with, though neither of us ever inquired or accepted. Possibilities lingered in the air every afternoon and we didn't both acknowledging them.
   "Hey, you done?" 
   "Huh?" I glanced up to see Wilson, with his book bag slung over his shoulder. "Oh, uh," I hit a few buttons, before nodding. "Yeah."
   "That purple haired girl leaving here seemed..."
   "Pissed?"
   "Frustrated. She's hot, though."
   "I, er, yeah. A bit, I guess. Not really my..." I trailed off. We shared a lab, but were working on separate projects, so we weren't really lab mates, she wasn't my girlfriend, hell, I wasn't even sure if she considered herself a friend. "My type." Types were ridiculous, everyone acknowledged that they were, everyone mocked them, novels, television shows, movies used them as their go to self-aware-somewhat-witty-and-self-depreciating cliche.
   "Dude, there's blue lipstick on your cheek, I'm thinking she might be a little." I quickly wiped the lipstick off, as Wilson smirked.

   "Maybe a little." I shrugged, trying to suppress the smile that was playing with the corner of my lips. "It's just flirting, though." He raised an eyebrow, as I turned off my machine, cleaning up the area. "Whatever, let's get to the store, since Veronica probably wants actual food for lunch."   "Damn, you didn't tell me you liked an artsy psych major." Now was not the time to discuss Lyla, now was the time to discuss how far we could stretch the allowance our parents granted to us for food, since mum wasn't convinced that, had we been left to our own devices, we'd feed her little girl. Lyla and I... There wasn't a Lyla and I, simple as that.

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