Bruno made an effort to leave the window of the hardware store where he worked, in the Chamberí area, looking Christmas-like. The hardware store had been passed down from father to son. His grandfather opened it back in the seventies, then his father took over, and now Bruno was learning the trade so that it could pass into his hands. Not that it was planned, because he would have preferred something different, like those geek stores with video games, t-shirts and a whole array of charming merchandising referring to each of them.

It was cold outside. Madrid had woken up that morning to minus three degrees. The weatherman had threatened with a visit from Storm Eloy, which would make all those who dared to set foot outside shiver, which would be the vast majority, after all.

While a huge star hung in silver tones, lots of glitter and colorful lights that would shine once they were allowed to do their job, a red-haired girl, with curly hair that caressed her waist with its length, sea blue eyes and freckles crossing her face, Like the Milky Way itself, it passed by and looked at it for a moment. Bruno almost fell off the small ladder he had climbed onto to hang the gigantic Christmas decoration at the highest part of the shop window ceilings. He stumbled a little, but managed to right himself.

—Don't fuck with me! —he growled fiercely, towards his neck, feeling cold sweat slide down his neck with the shock.

He went back to look for the woman, looking at what he said from the glass. It was impossible for him. As far as he could see, the beautiful vision could no longer be seen.

—¡Bruno!

Mateo, his father, called him from inside.

—I'm going, dad.

He finished hooking the thread with that nail, hitting the hammer. Then, he got off the stairs to go in search of his father.

He left the staircase where it wouldn't be in the way. He looked for Mateo, but couldn't find him. He moved through the sections until he found him.

—What's wrong, dad?

—I need you to show Christmas trees to a client. I have a lady who is waiting for me to measure a blind for her house. And I don't want to keep her waiting.

—Of course, dad.

Because it wasn't just a hardware store there. Because his grandfather had always been very excited when articles of all kinds entered, and especially those related to Christmas. May they never be missing during the magical season. Vicente had dressed up as Melchior, countless times, for the parades. Carmencita, his wife, had accompanied him, dressed as a Royal Page. They were one for another. So, the Christmas spirit came as standard. Mateo felt the same enthusiasm as his father, and Conchita, his wife, supported him in each of his ideas. So, how can you not enjoy these beautiful dates?

Susana was messing around in the back room. She was Bruno's older sister. I helped in the store in the mornings, and studied at the university in the afternoons. Bruno was too lazy for any study. He had only obtained a basic FP as an electrician and little else. Something will help me, it was said, as if he had obtained an important master's degree.

He walked steadily to the counter. The hardware store was full of people. There was a couple looking at some living room lamps, another younger couple was looking among the kitchen molds for something suitable for their taste. Bruno thought they would be one of those cooks with a cooking page, probably half-baked on Facebook. It was nice to imagine the lives of the people who dropped by there. Why not? Sometimes he thought he was too old with these kinds of thoughts. Staying stuck there, in that store. On weekends, it was more of a couch and blanket, after Julio, his best friend, married a beautiful brunette and soon had children, and the rest of his friends were already living a similar life. They only met here and there to have a few drinks during an afternoon, or a sporadic meal, and little else.

He almost fainted when he saw the redhead from before in front of the counter. His throat went dry. His hands were sweating. He dusted off his work uniform, trying to appear more acceptable. Then he fixed his hair with his fingers. He cleared his throat behind her. It smelled divinely of flowers and vanilla soap.

"Ho..." the reedy voice came out. He cleared his throat to clear it up, "Hello." What... what can I help you with?

She smiled, and a supernova exploded inside Bruno.

"That one," she pointed to a white Christmas tree. Can you give me the price?

He nodded, between fascination and astonishment.

-Clear. Yeah.

He moved to the counter, typing on the computer next to it.

—Well, that size is worth thirty-seven euros and forty cents. "If you want it bigger, the price... the price goes up," he spoke, somewhat tongue-tied.

"I like that one," she smiled again. His voice was sweet. As if she weren't human.

—So, you're taking it?

She nodded.

—And to decorate it? What can you offer me?

"The tree decoration part..." he cleared his throat again, "is over there," he said later, pointing to the appropriate section.

I was grateful that people didn't go directly to the big Asian bazaars. Let them spend their money in traditional stores that, although they were not so cheap, were a bit far from the rest of the stores.

"Thank you," she said, tilting her head funnily. If it weren't for his shameless imagination, he would say that she was trying to flirt with him. But the reality, surely, was not that.

Meanwhile, Bruno helped other customers with their questions, purchases, and wrapping the item with gift paper. From time to time, he looked at that beautiful woman who seemed unreal, ethereal, a divinity. His throat dried again with such a beautiful spectacle.

—Hey, are you going to charge me or not? —the client was interested, an elderly man who was frowning dangerously.

—Oh, of course, sir. I'm coming.

"Well, thank you," he growled, furious.

The red-haired girl got in line. In a moment, the store was full again. When Bruno dared to look at her, she gave him another of her subtle smiles, which disarmed him, which made his hands tremble, causing some minor damage. It couldn't be happening! But it should be happening because the situation was amazing!

He pinched himself surreptitiously on occasion. I was more than awake. The pinch hurt, and the trip of his knee against the side of the wooden counter hurt, too.

It was the girl's turn. She couldn't stop smiling at him. He prepared to do the same, although with a more contrite and unnatural gesture due to nervousness. Why was he suddenly so lucky?

—I'll stick with this. Do you think my new tree will do well? —She consulted, pointing to the heavy box she was dragging next to her, as best she could, being so thin.

Bruno put his attention on the box of balls of different colors, and on the other box of gold and silver bells.

—I am more of iridescent balls for this type of trees.

—Iridescent?

—Or the ones with large sequins similar to the scales of a dragon.

—I haven't seen those there! —she protested, annoyed with herself for her oversight.

—Come. "Come with me," he left the counter, walking with long strides. She followed him. "They're here," he pointed out, when they were reaching the Christmas decorations section.

He grabbed a couple of those boxes and showed them to them.

—Oh, they are beautiful! —She agreed with him, opening her mouth and eyes wide, with enormous admiration.

"These and those are going to look great on your tree," he advised her.

-I agree with you.

—So, which ones do we take to the box? —She touched her chin with her finger in a funny way. Then he pointed to the pair of boxes he was going to take. Fantastic! —He celebrated, for his quick way of deciding.

They walked to the counter. He ran the barcode of the two boxes, and the one on the tree, through the infrared reader.

—My name is Martha. —That interrupted the series of sounds that the reader's little gadget was producing, with Bruno watching her, confused. She blushed. "Wow, how embarrassing," he complained, putting his hands to his reddish cheeks.

"Bruno," he said, with a half-confused smile.

"Bruno," he nodded. Bruno Garcia. "I know," she nodded again, agreeing with herself. That really threw him off! How did he know? She smiled again. Bruno García—he repeated the name in one go—I've been trying to talk to you for a long time and I couldn't find the way, or the chance.

-That? Where do you hide the hidden camera? —he accused her, hesitating.

—There is no hidden camera, Bruno. Just a simple girl who was planning how to tell the boy that she likes him, that she really likes him.

Bruno almost dropped the bag, already filled with the two boxes of decorations, that he was holding.

—Are you staying with me?

"I want to stay by your side," he prayed, with those who were close to them and who were watching the scene as if it were a scene from a romantic movie, and who ended up applauding.

Marta blushed again.

-I'm sorry. "How embarrassing," she apologized again. He took out a paper. He scribbled on it. Better, let's do this without an audience. "It's a lot less awkward," she suggested.

Bruno mentally pinched himself. It was happening. It was really happening!

He charged her the entire purchase without losing that clumsy and silly smile that had been on his face from the moment she had thought of proposing to him.

The alarm clock rang. He almost fell out of bed with shock. Had it all been a fucking dream? nonsense! It couldn't be! His phone rang. He picked up, still half asleep.

—Punctuality is not your thing, right my dear?

"Martha?"

—I've been waiting for you for half an hour. —A sweet smile was heard on the other end of the receiver—. You have fallen asleep. It can't be with you! —she scolded him tenderly—. Get out of bed and pick me up. Today is supposed to be the day you check out at the store. And you're going to be entirely mine. You have to buy Christmas gifts.

I was still lost. I had to be dreaming. But it was real. The phone was real. His room was. Although her voice continued to be sweet, beautiful, ethereal, almost unreal.

"Bruno," she called him with delicious, velvety notes in her voice. I love you, Bruno García. And if you're wondering if it's happening, well yes, this is really happening," confirmed the young woman, on the other side of the son's voice.

The alarm clock rang again. The room was silent, dark, with only him inside. The phone was silent. He got up reluctantly. It was Christmas Eve and I had to work.

Today he had to decorate the window of his father's hardware store, in the heart of Chamberí, with a Christmas touch. He climbed the ladder, carrying that enormous silver star, with glitter and colored lights that would shine without delay. In front of him, again, the image of the red-haired woman, her freckles, like the Milky Way itself. Her hair red as fire, her sea blue gaze. Then, he almost fell off the small ladder, but was able to right himself. His gaze, from inside the glass, could no longer reach where the beautiful figure had moved. He cursed under his breath. His father called him. He had to finish hanging the happy star by hitting the hammer on a nail, going back up the small ladder, and see what his father would want next. I wish he could see again that beautiful woman who had passed in front of him, ethereal, beautiful, mystical, almost unreal.

The alarm clock rang again. The room was calm, dark, but with a different atmosphere. The bed felt warm. Who would want to get up in the middle of winter, with Storm Eloy announcing sharp drops in temperature and snow? But I had to go to work. Today he had to open the hardware store.

He felt next to him for the phone. A sweet growl echoed in the darkness and Bruno opened his eyes wide. He felt around for the nightlight switch. When it turned on, he had to adjust his eyes a little to the sudden change in lighting. And there she was, the redhead, with her fiery hair disheveled, spread out on the pillow. With his lips parted in a half kiss not given. With her starry, rosy cheeks. Shining serenity; beauty. Bruno pinched himself for the hundredth time, to know if this was real. Otherwise it would continue to be a dream. The pinch hurt. And the warmth of that body was human. He shook her a little to try to wake her up. He had to go to work. And she would have to go home, or she didn't know at what point in this dream she had woken up for it to stay. She shifted a little and grunted like a little girl.

"Okay, Bruno, give me a little time, please," he mumbled in a thick voice.

—Hurry up, will you? I'm late for work.

She opened her sea-colored eyes. In the gloom, they were shadowed in a hypnotic cobalt tone.

-I know. Don't worry. I'll take Paula to school. I'll get to work later today. I already notified Braulio, my boss.

—Paula! They lived together and had children! The corners of his mouth rose with explosive enthusiasm. He liked that dream. He liked it a lot.

He crossed his fingers instinctively, asking himself permission to never wake up from such a beautiful dream. The redhead was there. It was part of his life. And he wouldn't have to win her over again... more times. Because she would stay with him as long as fate allowed her. But was this really real? The only thing that mattered to him was the present, there, at that moment. Out, dream or reality. Merry Christmas, Martha! Merry Christmas, Paula! Merry Christmas to myself. "This really is a nice Christmas. Christmas... sweet Christmas."

Christmas, Christmas, sweet Christmas...

Bruno made an effort to leave the window of the hardware store where he worked, in the Chamberí area, looking Christmas-like. The hardware store had been passed down from father to son. His grandfather opened it back in the seventies, then his father took over, and now Bruno was learning the trade so that it could pass into his hands. Not that it was planned, because he would have preferred something different, like those geek stores with video games, t-shirts and a whole array of charming merchandising referring to each of them.

It was cold outside. Madrid had woken up that morning to minus three degrees. The weatherman had threatened with a visit from Storm Eloy, which would make all those who dared to set foot outside shiver, which would be the vast majority, after all.

While a huge star hung in silver tones, lots of glitter and colorful lights that would shine once they were allowed to do their job, a red-haired girl, with curly hair that caressed her waist with its length, sea blue eyes and freckles crossing her face, Like the Milky Way itself, it passed by and looked at it for a moment. Bruno almost fell off the small ladder he had climbed onto to hang the gigantic Christmas decoration at the highest part of the shop window ceilings. He stumbled a little, but managed to right himself.

—Don't fuck with me! —he growled fiercely, towards his neck, feeling cold sweat slide down his neck with the shock.

He went back to look for the woman, looking at what he said from the glass. It was impossible for him. As far as he could see, the beautiful vision could no longer be seen.

—¡Bruno!

Mateo, his father, called him from inside.

—I'm going, dad.

He finished hooking the thread with that nail, hitting the hammer. Then, he got off the stairs to go in search of his father.

He left the staircase where it wouldn't be in the way. He looked for Mateo, but couldn't find him. He moved through the sections until he found him.

—What's wrong, dad?

—I need you to show Christmas trees to a client. I have a lady who is waiting for me to measure a blind for her house. And I don't want to keep her waiting.

—Of course, dad.

Because it wasn't just a hardware store there. Because his grandfather had always been very excited when articles of all kinds entered, and especially those related to Christmas. May they never be missing during the magical season. Vicente had dressed up as Melchior, countless times, for the parades. Carmencita, his wife, had accompanied him, dressed as a Royal Page. They were one for another. So, the Christmas spirit came as standard. Mateo felt the same enthusiasm as his father, and Conchita, his wife, supported him in each of his ideas. So, how can you not enjoy these beautiful dates?

Susana was messing around in the back room. She was Bruno's older sister. I helped in the store in the mornings, and studied at the university in the afternoons. Bruno was too lazy for any study. He had only obtained a basic FP as an electrician and little else. something will help me, it was said as if he had obtained an important master's degree.

He walked steadily to the counter. The hardware store was full of people. There was a couple looking at some living room lamps, another younger couple was looking among the kitchen molds for something suitable for their taste. Bruno thought they would be one of those cooks with a cooking page, probably half-baked on Facebook. It was nice to imagine the lives of the people who dropped by there. Why not? Sometimes he thought he was too old with these kinds of thoughts. Staying stuck there, in that store. On weekends it was more of a couch and blanket, after Julio, his best friend, married a beautiful brunette and soon had children, and the rest of his friends were already living a similar life. They only met here and there to have a few drinks during an afternoon, or a sporadic meal, and little else.

He almost fainted when he saw the redhead from before in front of the counter. His throat went dry. His hands were sweating. He dusted off his work uniform, trying to appear more acceptable. Then he fixed his hair with his fingers. He cleared his throat behind her. It smelled divinely of flowers and vanilla soap.

"Ho..." the reedy voice came out. He cleared his throat to clear it up, "Hello." What... what can I help you with?

She smiled and a supernova exploded inside Bruno.

"That one," she pointed to a white Christmas tree. Can you give me the price?

He nodded, between fascination and astonishment.

-Clear. Yeah.

He moved to the counter, typing on the computer next to it.

—Well, that size is worth thirty-seven euros and forty cents. "If you want it bigger, the price... the price goes up," he spoke, somewhat tongue-tied.

"I like that one," she smiled again. His voice was sweet. As if she weren't human.

—So, you're taking it?

She nodded.

—And to decorate it? What can you offer me?

"The tree decoration part..." he cleared his throat again, "is over there," he said later, pointing to the appropriate section.

I was grateful that people didn't go directly to the big Asian bazaars. Let them spend their money in traditional stores that, although they were not so cheap, were a bit far from the rest of the stores.

"Thank you," she said, tilting her head in a funny way. If it weren't for his shameless imagination, he would say that she was trying to flirt with him. But the reality, surely, was not that.

Meanwhile, Bruno helped other customers with their questions, purchases, and wrapping the item with gift paper. From time to time, he looked at that beautiful woman who seemed unreal, ethereal, a divinity. His throat dried again with such a beautiful spectacle.

—Hey, are you going to charge me or not? —the client was interested, an elderly man who was frowning dangerously.

—Oh, of course, sir. I'm coming.

"Well, thank you," he growled, furious.

The red-haired girl got in line. In a moment, the store was full again. When Bruno dared to look at her, she gave him another of her subtle smiles, which disarmed him, which made his hands tremble, causing some minor damage. It couldn't be happening! But it should be happening because the situation was amazing!

He pinched himself surreptitiously on occasion. I was more than awake. The pinch hurt, and the trip of his knee against the side of the wooden counter hurt, too.

It was the girl's turn. She couldn't stop smiling at him. He prepared to do the same, although with a more contrite and unnatural gesture due to nervousness. Why was he suddenly so lucky?

—I'll stick with this. Do you think my new tree will do well? —She consulted, pointing to the heavy box she was dragging next to her, as best she could, being so thin.

Bruno put his attention on the box of balls of different colors, and on the other box of gold and silver bells.

—I am more of an iridescent balls for this type of trees.

—Iridescent?

—Or the ones with large sequins similar to the scales of a dragon.

—I haven't seen those there! —she protested, annoyed with herself for her oversight.

—Come. "Come with me," he left the counter, walking with long strides. She followed him. "They're here," he pointed out, when they were reaching the Christmas decorations section.

He grabbed a couple of those boxes and showed them to them.

—Oh, they are beautiful! —She agreed with him, opening her mouth and eyes wide, with enormous admiration.

"These and those are going to look great on your tree," he advised her.

-I agree with you.

—So, which ones do we take to the box? —She touched her chin with her finger in a funny way. Then he pointed to the pair of boxes he was going to take. Fantastic! —He celebrated, for his quick way of deciding.

They walked to the counter. He ran the barcode of the two boxes, and the one on the tree, through the infrared reader.

—My name is Martha. —That interrupted the series of sounds that the reader's little gadget was producing, with Bruno watching her, confused. She blushed. "Wow, how embarrassing," he complained, putting his hands to his reddish cheeks.

"Bruno," he said, with a half-confused smile.

"Bruno," he nodded. Bruno Garcia. "I know," she nodded again, agreeing with herself. That really threw him off! How did he know? She smiled again. Bruno García—he repeated the name in one go—I've been trying to talk to you for a long time and I couldn't find the way, or the chance.

-That? Where do you hide the hidden camera? —he accused her, hesitating.

—There is no hidden camera, Bruno. Just a simple girl who was planning how to tell the boy that she likes him, that she really likes him.

Bruno almost dropped the bag, already filled with the two boxes of decorations, that he was holding.

—Are you staying with me?

"I want to stay by your side," he prayed, with those who were close to them and who were watching the scene as if it were a scene from a romantic movie, and who ended up applauding.

Marta blushed again.

-I'm sorry. "How embarrassing," she apologized again. He took out a paper. He scribbled on it. Better, let's do this without an audience. "It's a lot less awkward," she suggested.

Bruno mentally pinched himself. It was happening. It was really happening!

He charged her the entire purchase without losing that clumsy and silly smile that had been on his face from the moment she had thought of proposing to him.

The alarm clock rang. He almost fell out of bed with shock. Had it all been a fucking dream? nonsense! It couldn't be! His phone rang. He picked up, still half asleep.

—Punctuality is not your thing, right my dear?

"Martha?"

—I've been waiting for you for half an hour. —A sweet smile was heard on the other end of the receiver—. You have fallen asleep. It can't be with you! —she scolded him tenderly—. Get out of bed and pick me up. Today is supposed to be the day you check out at the store. And you're going to be entirely mine. You have to buy Christmas gifts.

I was still lost. I had to be dreaming. But it was real. The phone was real. His room was. Although her voice continued to be sweet, beautiful, ethereal, almost unreal.

"Bruno," she called him with delicious, velvety notes in her voice. I love you, Bruno García. And if you're wondering if it's happening, well yes, this is really happening," confirmed the young woman, on the other side of the son's voice.

The alarm clock rang again. The room was silent, dark, with only him inside. The phone was silent. He got up reluctantly. It was Christmas Eve and I had to work.

Today he had to decorate the window of his father's hardware store, in the heart of Chamberí, with a Christmas touch. He climbed the ladder, carrying that enormous silver star, with glitter and colored lights that would shine without delay. In front of him, again, the image of the red-haired woman, her freckles, like the Milky Way itself. Her hair red as fire, her sea blue gaze. Then, he almost fell off the small ladder, but was able to right himself. His gaze, from inside the glass, could no longer reach where the beautiful figure had moved. He cursed under his breath. His father called him. He had to finish hanging the happy star by hitting the hammer on a nail, going back up the small ladder, and see what his father would want next. I wish he could see again that beautiful woman who had passed in front of him, ethereal, beautiful, mystical, almost unreal.

The alarm clock rang again. The room was calm, dark, but with a different atmosphere. The bed felt warm. Who would want to get up in the middle of winter, with Storm Eloy announcing sharp drops in temperature and snow? But I had to go to work. Today he had to open the hardware store.

He felt next to him for the phone. A sweet growl echoed in the darkness and Bruno opened his eyes wide. He felt around for the nightlight switch. When it turned on, he had to adjust his eyes a little to the sudden change in lighting. And there she was, the redhead, with her fiery hair disheveled, spread out on the pillow. With his lips parted in a half kiss not given. With her starry, rosy cheeks. Shining serenity; beauty. Bruno pinched himself for the hundredth time, to know if this was real. Otherwise, it would continue to be a dream. The pinch hurt. And the warmth of that body was human. He shook her a little to try to wake her up. He had to go to work. And she would have to go home, or she didn't know at what point in this dream she had woken up for it to stay. She shifted a little and grunted like a little girl.

"Okay, Bruno, give me a little time, please," he mumbled in a thick voice.

—Hurry up, will you? I'm late for work.

She opened her sea-colored eyes. In the gloom, they were shadowed in a hypnotic cobalt tone.

-I know. Don't worry. I'll take Paula to school. I'll get to work later today. I already notified Braulio, my boss.

—Paula! They lived together and had children! The corners of his mouth rose with explosive enthusiasm. He liked that dream. He liked it a lot.

He crossed his fingers instinctively, asking himself permission to never wake up from such a beautiful dream. The redhead was there. It was part of his life. And he wouldn't have to win her over again... more times. Because she would stay with him as long as fate allowed her. But was this really real? The only thing that mattered to him was the present, there, at that moment. Out, dream or reality. Merry Christmas, Martha! Merry Christmas, Paula! Merry Christmas to myself. "This really is a nice Christmas. Christmas... sweet Christmas."

https://youtu.be/3ZT9_H4-hbM