When Levi agreed to open the gift now, a ball of excitement seemed to land in her stomach. She knew how he was with presents. For someone so opposed to his own birthday, Levi still enjoyed tearing through wrapping paper and untying ribbons. He loved it, from what she recalled. And Jackie wanted this to be one of those gifts he loved. She wanted the anticipation and curiosity inspired by a wrapped present to be worth it when the gift itself was revealed. Jackie loved giving people things. She loved the smile that formed when all the wrapping was pushed aside and someone saw something picked out especially for them. It was satisfying and warm, the kind of moment she wished she could witness more often. But as she rambled between his agreement and any actual move to open the box, Levi smiled, and that was warmer and more satisfying than she realized it would be.
Jackie had missed him. She really had.
Her laughter was a full and proper burst, nothing held back at all. Generally speaking, Jackie wasn't one to hold back her reactions. When she laughed, it was loud and warm and undeniably genuine. But uncertainty often led to a tighter hold on a person's responses. It felt good to laugh properly. It felt good, and with Levi in particular, it felt familiar. "I'll never look at another fruit basket the same way again," she said, but the moment, and her laughter, sobered with the mention of Carlos. Her smile tightened. "Of course."
The point of this was for Levi to receive his gift, so when he opened the box, Jackie had no business mourning the banter that had ended so abruptly. But she did anyway, in that moment of quiet as he untied the ribbon, right before the coin was revealed. They could've joked for longer. That would've been nice. But giving a gift was also nice. Seeing the receiver's reaction as it spread across their face. Jackie let go of the teasing so she could look at Levi. She thought the coin was one he'd like. It wasn't exactly easy to track down, but she'd managed to anyway. It took some work, but finding something a man with over two hundred birthdays under his belt didn't already have was no small task. Jackie was just hoping for a smile. Even if he'd already found the coin and added it to his collection ages ago, she was hoping for a smile.
She never thought he'd kiss her, but then, Jackie wasn't always the best at thinking things through completely.
It didn't last very long. It was a pretty short kiss, all things considered. But in that fragment of a moment, time stopped. It was such a cliche, to think of a kiss stopping the world around two people, but it wasn't as simple as that, it wasn't just two people kissing. Jackie and Levi were two people who were never going to kiss again. She used to think about that sometimes, on nights when she couldn't sleep, when her guilt was chewing away at her and there was nothing to quiet her racing thoughts. The last time she and Levi kissed, she didn't know it was the last time. She didn't kiss him like she would never kiss him again. It was a short press, nothing more, nothing special or lingering. Comfortable and casual. Commonplace. When she used to think about that, her thoughts were bitter. She wasn't granted finality, and that added to the churning anger and the painful guilt in the months after Micah's death. But now, that last kiss wasn't their last anymore. And maybe it was short, maybe it didn't linger, but it wasn't casual either. It wasn't commonplace. This was something stolen, but it was comfortable, like coming back to a warm place after years of being away in the cold. It wasn't right, but it felt too familiar to be wrong.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but in that time, Jackie dropped her coffee.
Not because he'd kissed her. Because she nearly kissed him back.
But then he pulled away. One hand moved to his arm, but she was already locked in his trance. His words registered deeper than words had any right to, and the box was pressed into her other hand.