The Christmas Special

Lamps in the streets offer warm heat against the silver.

Rain pours from the heavens, washing away the slushed snow down large storm drains. Though stone and pavement appear messy, with leaves and dark puddles, the cold appears safe and warm.

Out of the large window, I can see backed-up cars and flashing lights. A mile worth of angry late-Christmas shoppers honking at one another.

Sipping my coffee, I chuckle.

"Did you stifle traffic on purpose or is it just that time of year?" A groggy voice echoes from the hallway.

Laughing again, I turn to look at the disheveled blond hair and grumpy face. "Good morning, Love."

"It's half past noon."

"You're the one who just got out of bed."

He rolls cold hazel eyes and finds his place against me, wrapping half limp arms over my shoulder. Lindon lays his cheek against the top of my head and sighs. The heat emanating from him is tremendous, safely blanketing me,

Snow plops off a tree in the distance, the faint smell of danger pooling into the air around me.

Blinking out of his daze, Lindon looks down at me and lifts my chin. "You didn't answer my question."

Twisting back, my arms cross awkwardly over my chest. "They're just a bunch of bitter New Yorker's who didn't care enough to shop ages ago."

"Some people have jobs, Darling."

"It's Christmas Eve, Lindon. You can't tell me everyone is that innocent. This line of cars is packed full of people who were selfish. They put the gifts off as a last-minute thought or even possibly forgot about someone."

He takes only a moment before pulling away and gesturing to the street below. "There are people getting home from deployment, they are the presents. People who work 80 hours a week just to feed their children, others who won't even have presents this year. But they might have family if you stop punishing innocent people."

My lips pull into a frown. I fight the surging prickles in my eyes. Tears that want to acknowledge just how right he is.

"Ira..." he murmurs softly.

My fingers flicker and the accidents clear up.

The sounds of yelling and obnoxious beeping fade into silence, the dawn never reaching pavement. In the gray wonderland, only a few stand in the streets now. No ambulances. Just the soft light of warm lamps.

Love.

Love fills the streets below with an odd couple on a date every now and then.

Lindon's hands run over my shoulders and down to the elbow, pulling me back against his chest. "Not everyone is bad."

"The world isn't full of good people anymore, Lin."

I hear a soft shush and I'm flipped around to face his soft features. Pale olive skin glows slightly in the light of a tall Christmas tree. Different colors sparkle in his eyes, spots of red, blue, and green dancing around in the reflection.

Lindon leans down and kisses my forehead. He pets my hair back once and smiles a little. "People suck."

I melt a little, squishing my lips tight so as to fight the growing grin.

"They do."

"But we created them."

"Surely that means we can destroy them, right?"

His face drops a little as he goes for the kitchen. "Unfortunately, they're doing that all by themselves."

Mirroring his movements and taking another sip of coffee, I find one of the bar stools and slide onto it. The black leather huffs underneath me.

I watch my husband rummage around the fridge for food, lifting up Tupperware and inspecting the contents. Suddenly on a mission, he pulls out several packages of meat and a bottle of seasoning.

My eyes wander over him while he washes his hands and gets ready to cook. Perhaps more accurately make the house smell of meat and spices. I could only guess with him pulling out some tomato sauce and a pan.

A gray shirt and some black sweatpants hug Lindon's body. I can't help but appreciate the way he stretches out the arms slightly and the rest effortlessly hangs off him. Enough to imagine, though there is no need.

"Adoration suits you," he smirks.

I blink and try to focus. "I'm sorry?"

"Do you want to put the presents out or should I?"

My mouth quirks up. "How would you know where I've been keeping mine?"

Lindon rolls his eyes. "It's where you've kept them the last four years, Ira."

Sulking, I playfully slide around our kitchen island and behind him. "Do you go snooping?"

"No more than you."

Nudging him, I wrap my arms around his waist and slump onto him. "What are you making other than a mess?"

"Excuse you," he mumbles. "You love my food."

"I love food in general."

Lindon pouts a little and I lean up to kiss his cheek.

He doesn't even look at me.

"Yes, of course. I love your food, Darling. It's my favorite."

He chuckles and nods. "I know. Now go sit down, I'll be done soon."

Following my orders, I walk away and find myself standing in the living room. The couch in front of me is a deep chocolate brown, soft and comfortably worn in. It's facing the Christmas tree, ornaments and lights shining in the dimly lit room.

The fireplace is empty and cold, so I kneel down and set a log on two metal stakes before flicking a wave of heat and cinders at the wood. It catches fire immediately.

Lindon begins pulling plates out in the Kitchen, inspiring me to go grab my presents and tuck them under the tree.

It was my goal to use as many different wrapping papers as possible. Some with reindeer and other covered in snowmen.

My favorite is a shiny blue with polar bears.

That present is special to me.

My balance finds his way to my side again, taking my hand and guiding me to the table.

Tasty hamburger and cheese on some pasta is organized neatly on a big plate.

"I'm going to be fat," I say, beaming. "But this all looks so delicious."

"Then try it already."

The hot meal is soul melting. I feel my chest relax and my lips curve up within the first bite, half-convinced we're back in that restaurant we used to love. In Italy with our balcony view of the sun setting and quiet whispers in a lovely language.

I love the combination of spice and sweet warmth.

"I'd eat this every day," I breathe into the food.

We both eat rather slowly, savoring what's on our plates as well as passing small conversation back and forth. Lindon slips me his hand from across the table as he finishes, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.

"Merry Christmas, my dear."

Squeezing back, my face flares up. "Happy Holidays, Lin."

My mind fights back the argument that it's Christmas eve and we have hours yet of waiting for the latter. Instead, I just stand from my seat at the table and pull him up with me.

"You had to be the first to put your presents down, didn't you?" he asks, shaking his head. The laughter is soft.

I shrug, looking behind me then straight into his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, the tree skirt looked empty. I was simply fixing a problem."

Lindon's eyes shine a little, a knowing look always lying underneath. He leans down to kiss my forehead again, but something rises in my chest and I tilt my head up, stealing his kiss for myself.

When our lips meet, the connection I love so much sparks up more. Lindon laughs at my small defiance and pulls me into a real hug this time.

"Why must you love being so difficult?"

My eyes fixate on the lights of the tree and his heartbeat, "I don't know what you're talking about."

His chest shudders with laughter. "Of course not."

Letting go of me, Lindon slips off into another room and comes back with an armful of presents. Some big and some small. The oddly shaped ones interest me the most. Even the abstract things I'd gotten had gone in a box to be square and wrapped, but for him, the creativity bloomed.

Though the wrapping skills certainly didn't.

"Are you happy now?" I ask, smirking down at him.

Lindon finishes putting the last few mixed in with mine and slides onto his butt. "Yes, very."

I lower myself down and crawl over to be somewhat beside him.

"What is this Holiday based on again?"

Lindon raises a brow out me, but only answers. "The birth of Jesus."

"I thought that it had something to do with Paganism."

He takes my hand, thinking for a moment. "Humans like to appropriate other cultures, Ira. You know that."

I sigh. "I suppose... I miss sacrifices."

Lindon stiffens immediately, eyes wide in surprise. "Where did that come from?"

Gauging the laugh waiting for me in the back of his throat, I grin. "When people respected the Gods, they would bring us sacrifices. Though I'm not partial to pointless death, the selfishness of their behavior always amused me. In most cultures, it was absolutely normal to give up someone or something to another good year of harvest or protection."

This only gives me the breath of a laugh.

"Don't you ever miss eating people?"

He chokes, laughing and leaning back onto the carpeted floor. "I see what you're doing."

"Took you long enough."

A few minutes pass before his head lolls over to look at me. "Let's engage in tradition."

"Which one?" I smirk, ready to take the joke even farther.

He shakes his head at me, incredulous. Lindon grabs a small gift from under the tree and places it in the palm of my hands. "Now get me one of yours."

There are eight or nine in total, I'd forgotten exactly how many. A couple have significance, others are playful. What amuses me about this is wondering if pajamas are somehow involved or if he truly just wanted to open one gift each on the Eve.

Either way, I grab my polar bear box, about the size of a large grapefruit and hand it over to him.

The box rattles a little when he twists it, making a soft pattering sound as if something is rolling up against the walls.

"What is this?"

"What's the point of opening it I tell you, dummy."

Lindon chuckles, peeling off the tape and opening the box fully.

Inside is a snow globe, small figurines of us standing inside. Lindon takes it out without smudging the orb, careful shaking it and watching the miniature versions of us dance. A memory from living in the north, we spent the holiday in a town square.

Crafting a memory orb is one thing, but shifting it into a snow globe was much harder.

Ignoring the tears in his eyes, Lindon kisses my head and hugs me close. His silent happiness is all I need.

"Open yours," he whispers.

I tug on the ends and unwrap a small tube of canvas rolled up. Beautiful characters in multiple languages litter the page. Colorful Chinese, Japanese, and old English characters. In Latin even, there lie Saecula.

Every single way to say Always and Forever.

I set it down gently and tackle him, hugging him so tight I might crush him into the floor. Lindon squeezes me back, holding me close.

Though his blond hair is loosely hanging over his eyes and I can see the sleep still clouding them, I can't help but admire my perfect partner. No matter what forms we've taken over the years, in every way, we've been crafted for each other.

Lindon hums something, taking a deep breath before meeting my gaze.

"I love you, Iridian."

Flopping into my place at his side, I nod and push my face into him. "I love you, Lindon."

"Let's have a good year this year, my Dear."

"Mhm," I smile. "Please..."

"Of course."

I close my eyes and feel my energy blending into his. Listening to our heartbeats lining up, our breathing rising and falling at the same time.

My other half is the best present of all.

_______________________________________

Merry Christmas, My Loves.

I hope you received everything you wanted out of this year. I know there were hard times and sadnesses, but I give thanks to the smiles and hope that this coming year is better for you.

Someone will always be there for you if you need it, of that I know to be true.

Have a wonderful Holiday :) <3