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Sal: It's Christmas Eve, and you find yourself sat on a blanket on the hill in the park, looking up at the stars and clutching a travel mug of hot chocolate between your hands, keeping your fingers warm. You sigh, looking back down at your drink and swirling it slightly - this is not a situation you expected to find yourself in, not alone anyway. You jump at the sound of dry leaves being trodden on behind you, and you twist around, hand clutching your chest in relief when you realize it's just Sal. The relief quickly vanishes though, your heart beginning to race faster and faster as you watch him approach slowly. This was the first time you'd seen him, in person at least, since the two of you had called it quits a month ago, and despite assuring your friends you were way over him, you most certainly weren't. Your gaze drift to his own travel mug he was carrying, a folded blanket draped over his forearm, and your eyes narrow.

"What are you doing here?"

He smiles weakly, the confident air that usually surrounds him gone, and instead you can sense his nerves and insecurity.

"It's tradition isn't it," he shrugs. "Christmas Eve, out here. A mug of the finest hot chocolate New York has to offer."

You turn back to face forward, managing to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape, but not the amused grin that spread across your face. Out of the corner of your eye you notice he's come to a stop at the edge of your blanket and he gestures towards the space beside you.

"Can I...?" his voice trails off, his voice quieter again.

You nod, not sure you trust your voice. The two of you sit in silence for a long while, stiff beside each other, always making sure to keep a centimeters distance between your arms, as the two of you gaze up at the stars. This is nothing like it had been the past two years, where the two of you would be cuddled up, laughing and joking, pointing out patterns in the stars.

"How come you're here?" Sal speaks up eventually, and you look to the side to find him watching you carefully.

You blush under his gaze and shrug, "I don't really know... It just, I don't know, it felt weird not coming here. Wrong," you mumble, but it's true, you weren't sure why you'd come here.

"It's tradition," he repeats, his jokey tone back in place as he nudges your arm with his elbow gently, and you can't help but smile back at him.

You shiver slightly in the cool breeze, and Sal immediately holds out the blanket he'd brought, offering it to you, to which you nod enthusiastically. He wraps it carefully around your shoulders, before his hands pause on the material, and he speaks quietly.

"Mind if we both huddle under it? I'm getting a bit cold myself," Your head is telling you no, like it's the worst possible thing you could let happen, not when you're trying to get over him, but you nod anyway - it was his blanket after all. You shiver again, though not from coldness this time as he wraps arm tentatively around your waist, and you find yourself resting your cheek on his shoulder, everything feeling so familiar again. Your breath catches for a second when you feel his lips touch the top of your head, and you barely hear him whisper.

"I've missed you so much."

You snuggle into him a bit closer, and the arm around you tightens too.

"I've missed you too."

His other hand reaches beneath your chin, tilting it up so you're looking at him, and he stares down at you carefully.

"Could we, I mean, if you want, could we try again? I just... It was all so stupid, and i'm sorry, and I just, I want you back, if you'll have me."

You nod instantly, muttering a quick, "I'd like that," before pecking his lips quickly and resting your head back on his shoulder. You point to the sky.

"That one looks like a star - a star made of stars."

He laughs, pointing in a different direction.

"And that one's a... shoe? No a crocodile."

It was tradition after all.

Brian (Q): You stare at the page in front of you, rereading the sentence for what feels like the hundredth time, but still you're not taking it in. You throw your book down at the side of you on the bed, and glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table, which read '2:15 AM'.

"Hmm," you scoff aloud, it was technically Christmas day.

The idea doesn't bring you enjoy though, instead just hurt and annoyance. You fold your arms gruffly in front of your chest, frowning as you glare at the wall opposite, where a picture of you and your boyfriend had hung until you'd recently taken it down. It had been a week since you and Brian had broken up, and you just found yourself feeling grumpy about it all the time - though you reasoned with yourself that it could be worse, at least you weren't crying all the time. Arguments were most certainly not a rare occurrence between the two of you, both of you being incredibly strong-willed, but the two of you always ended up laughing about it, instantly forgiving each other. This time was different though, and despite the shouting being about something just as trivial as all the other times, it just kept escalating to the point when you both said "What's the point of us being together?" And now you weren't, and despite the annoyed persona you displayed to everyone and everything, you felt like part of your was missing. A tingling noise coming from your phone brings you out of your thoughts, and you reach over to read the text. You tense when you realize it's from Brian, opening it anxiously to read what it says:

'Merry Christmas Sweetheart. I have your present for you - look out your window.'

You frown down at the small screen. Sweetheart? Present? The two of you had split up, ex-partners do not say and do those types of things. You don't even properly acknowledge the other half of the text until another message from Brian rings through,

'Please?'

You get out from beneath your warm bed covers and make your way across the room to the window, pushing back your curtains. Your brows knit together as your gaze falls on Brian, stood in the middle of your back garden smiling up at your bedroom window, giving you a shy wave. You climb onto the windowsill and push open the window, stage whispering,

"What on earth are you doing Brian?"

He holds a finger to his lips, his eyes asking you to be quiet - you'd both be in trouble if your parents woke up. It's then when you notice the cards he's holding beneath his arm, and he brings them out so he's holding them in both hands. He drops the first card, and you read what it says on the one beneath it:

'I may have stolen this idea from Love actually...'

You chuckle, and he smiles before dropping that card onto the floor too.

'... but I know it's your favorite Christmas film so,'

'I'm here to wish you a merry Christmas...'

'... and to let you know that I miss you.'

'I miss waking up to the sound of you singing...'

You blush at that one, you never realized, and his next card confirms that point:

'... even though you think I'm asleep and don't hear it. I do.'

'Last week was stupid. I don't even care.'

'I'm stubborn... and fat.'

'You're a stubborn but insanely beautiful girl.'

You laugh, quickly bringing a hand to your mouth to quieten the sound. He grins up at you as he drops the next card.

'Perfect match right?'

'So I'm going to put my pride to one side...'

'... Because I love you, and nothing feels right without you there.'

'I'm sorry.'

You think that's the last one, but he drops that to reveal just one last card.

'Forgive me? :('

You instantly reach out a hand the pull the window closed, jumping down onto the carpet and pulling the curtains too. Then you take off through the house, not caring how noisy you are being as you rush towards the back door. When you pull the door open, you see Brian looking defeated as he collects the cards off the grass, but at the sound of the creaky door he looks up, eyes meeting your own. And as you run towards him, you forget about being grumpy, don't care that you're in bare feet and thin pajamas, and because all that matters is reaching Brian. As you reach him, he lifts you off you your feet, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you mutter:

"So much better than Love Actually."

James (Murr): "So I've been thinking," your mom starts, sitting down beside you on the edge of the bed.

"Don't hurt yourself," you mutter, a small smile appearing on your face.

She rolls her eyes, reaching out to push a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I know things haven't been great for you recently, so I thought, since its Christmas Eve, I'd give you a present early."

You look over at your mom with eyebrows raised, curious.

"Okay..."

You watch as she gets to her feet and walks towards your door, opening it. You frown, because there's nothing there, until someone steps into the doorway and your eyes widen - James.

"Mom?" your voice is barely a whisper, looking between the two of them before she leaves the room.

You dive off your bed, pushing James gently out of the way as you rush after your mom, catching her arm just before she takes a step down the stairs.

"Mom, why? You know we've broken up, why you are doing this?" your voice breaks, and you know your eyes are swimming with tears - this was too much for you to handle.

"Oh sweetheart," she sighs, wrapping her arms around you in a hug, before pulling back and holding your face in her hands.

"You've been so upset and angry these past weeks and it hurts to see you like that. I know things didn't end as well as you'd hoped and I thought bringing James here, you could talk, sensibly, like adults,"

"But, but..." your mouth is opening and closing, at a complete loss as to what to say.

"And either way it ends up, at least it'll be a better closure than it was before, yeah?"

You think about it for a minute, and then nod. She was right there - when the two of you broke up you'd both been screaming, something completely out of the ordinary for both of you. You turn around and slowly make your way back to your bedroom, noticing James has taken a seat at your desk, waiting patiently.

"Hi," you mumble, as nervous as you had been the first time you'd met him, if not more.

"Hey," he responds, a small smile on his face.

You sit back down on the bed, pulling your pillow onto your lap and hugging it slightly, as if it will protect you from whatever is about to be said.

"How... How've you been?" he asks then, his voice tentative.

You're all ready to lie about how great you've been feeling, breaking up was the best thing to ever happen to you, but when you look over you can see the genuine concern in his eyes, you know you can't lie to him, so you smile sheepishly.

"I've... As good as I can be, considering. I guess. You?" you mumble.

He nods slowly in agreement.

"I could say the same. Not so great though," he replies.

Silence falls again, neither one of you knowing how to get rid of the awkwardness surrounding the two of you that never used to be there.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," he mumbles eventually, and when you look over you notice the tears in his eyes.

"Oh James," you pout, hating seeing him like that.

"We were both shouting, you don't need to apologize. I'm sorry too. I don't even know what happened, I don't even know why we did shout, I just..." you trail off, because you were truthfully at a loss as to what had actually happened in the exchange.

"I know," he nods, understanding, and he slowly gets up, moving so he's sitting beside you, but still leaving a small enough space between the two of you. He sighs again.

"I never wanted us to break up, never ever. I don't even know why I said it, it just came out and then I realized and it was too late because I'd already said it and I just, I'm so so sorry," he turns to look at you, face sad, and a tear falling down his cheek. And you can't help it, you lean forward slowly, gently kissing him - it didn't take much for him to win you back, you'd never wanted it to end in the first place, and neither did he it seems. When you pull apart he's smiling as he takes your hand.

"Does this mean...?" he asks tentatively, just to be sure.

You nod smiling, but frown when he gets to his feet, pulling you along with him - what is he doing?

"Come on," he's still grinning as he pulls you out of your room, never letting go of your hand.

"I've got to go thank your mom..."

Joe: It had been a long time since you'd been back in your bedroom at your family home, having shared an apartment with Joe for over a year. But now the two of you had split up, you were back, because even though he offered for you to keep the apartment and he'd move out, you couldn't face living every day in a place that so many memories that just made you hurt. You look around at the pink walls, covered in posters of your favorite celebrities and chuckle to yourself - you'd grown up so much in the past few years. It feels cluttered though, so you decide to clean out the room properly - it also doesn't slip your mind that it would be a happy distraction from moping around and feeling sorry for yourself. You're about half way through the giant task of clearing out the rubbish from your room where you come across them, and that's when you find yourself sat on the floor, staring down at them uselessly. They were two concert tickets you'd intended to give Joe for Christmas - you'd hidden them here so that he didn't find them back at the apartment, he was always nosing around Christmas and his birthday trying to find his presents. A lot of things have changed since you bought these, so it takes you a while to decide what you're going to do with them, but you do eventually - give them both to Joe, you don't want them. So with a sigh you get to your feet, and head outside and into your car. On the drive over to Joe's flat, your old flat, you argue aloud to yourself the entire way.

"This is the worst idea you've ever had (Y/N)," you groan, regretting the decision.

"But I'm nearly there now so..." you add.

You knock on the door, and your breath stops the instant he opens the door, a smile appearing on his face when he realizes it's you.

"(Y/N)..."

"Here," you hold out the tickets for him. "They're yours."

He takes them from you, looking down at them confused.

"I never bought these," he tells you.

You roll your eyes.

"No, they were your Christmas present from me," you replied.

He holds them back out for you, frowning slightly.

"You don't have to buy me anything, you've always known that,"

You hold your hands up in surrender, taking a step back further down the hallway.

"I don't want them, they're yours, I got them for you."

He's quiet for a moment, and you consider just leaving, pretty sure you're going to have a heart attack any second with the way your heart is beating.

Then he smirks.

"There's two?" his tone makes the statement sound like a question.

"Yes..." you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Take whoever you want, or sell it, give it away, whatever," you throw your arms up in annoyance.

He takes a step out into the hallway. "Come with me?"

You stare at him with wide eyes.

"What Joe? No, no! We split up!" your voice cracks at the end.

"And I still love you, and I miss you, so so much," he stresses, staring at you intensely.

"Please give me another chance?"

You shift your weight from foot to foot, you're mind racing with a million different thoughts on the situation.

"Joe, I..."

"We can take it slow, this can be our first date?" he's almost begging, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes, that even now never fail to make you smile.

"And if you're not interested by the end of it I'll leave you alone."

You laugh, because of course both of you know you'll be interested in him by the end of it, and you shake your head.

"Alright then, I'll go with you." You turn around and make your way slowly back down the hallway, waving over your shoulder.

"I'll text you!" he shouts.

You start to feel happier than you have in a few weeks.