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Holiday Magic Epilogue - Farah Hauville
🕑 Added 2023-12-25 14:00:04 +0000 UTCMusic invades my senses.
Christmas music.
And considering how much Christmas I’ve just been through over the last couple of days, I’m not sure whether to feel festive or anxious. I’m just waiting for the elf to pop out from under the buffet table and magic the pineapple on sticks to start tap dancing.
Thankfully, that doesn’t happen.
So instead, I try to relax into Tina’s Christmas party. Well, relax as much as someone can at one of her famous over-the-top events. Food tables stuffed with all kinds of goodies line one wall of the living room, two smaller tables set with a variety of drinks on either end. Furniture has been cleared away to allow everyone to mill around and mingle while the music creates a merry ambience in the background. In each corner is a Christmas tree sparkling with lights. And party games are dotted about the room as ice-breakers, even though everyone here has known each other for years.
Most people are already laughing and going over the events of the year in wistful tones.
But my focus is trapped on the window, where snow piles steadily higher against the panes as flakes fall with beating intent.
And Farah still hasn’t arrived.
I sip at my drink and enjoy the flavour in an attempt to stop my mind swirling with all the thoughts of what could be holding her up, when finally her voice drifts from the doorway. I slump against the wall in relief.
After handing over her coat, she cuts an easy swathe through the crowd, gaining the sudden stares of everyone.
I soon see why.
I blink as I also stare at her torso. “…What are you wearing?”
She puffs out her chest, tugging on the sweater, while wearing a grin brighter than the sequins splattered all across the front of the jumper. “It’s my Christmas sweater!”
“Yes,” I reply slowly, my gaze dragging over the wonky snowperson that has been knitted off-kilter, its carrot nose blinking with an LED light. White puffs of cotton look barely held onto the material in—what I assume—is meant to look like snow. A silhouette of a navy-blue Santa bleeds into the felt moon that covers one shoulder.
“It’s…” It’s awful. It’s really, really awful. “It’s certainly a Christmas sweater,” I announce, forcing my gaze back up to her eyes with a pressed smile.
She leans in with a grin. “I know you’re jealous. But don’t worry.” Her hand dips into the paper bag she carries and yanks out another jumper with a flourish. “I have a matching one for you, too!”
“Ohh…great…” I eek out, flinching away from the thing as though it might physically damage me.
Her expression falls, eyes widening as they gaze at me with diminishing hope. “But…I thought we talked about doing this. Matching ugly Christmas sweaters, remember?”
I blink a few times, running through the events of the last few days in my mind, and tucked away amongst all the wonderful times we shared is indeed a conversation about wearing Christmas jumpers together. Just before we wrote tags for the Christmas dream tree.
I let out a laugh. “I can’t believe you managed to get some for this year.”
“Of course I did. This party was the perfect opportunity!” she exclaims, dropping the paper bag and holding the gaudy item out to me with pouted lips. ‘So, will you wear matching jumpers and look silly with me, [Name] [Surname]?”
A smile spreads across my face as I reach for the garment, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek and whisper, “There’s nothing I want more.”
Placing my drink down, I draw in a steadying breath and tug the jumper on over my head, shifting it further down so that all of the awful garment is on full display across my torso.
Farah beams with delight before breaking into a laugh hard enough she has to wipe tears from her eyes. “Ahaha! I can’t believe you seriously put it on!”
My expression withers as I fold my arms. “Are you saying you did this just to see if I would?”
“Oh yeah, totally.” She pulls at the hem of the top and stares down at the distorted image with a grimace. “These are way too ugly. Even for me.” Her gaze flicks up to meet mine with a smile once more. “But I just wanted to see how much you actually cared for me.”
“And me wearing this…thing is how you determined that?” I ask.
She sidles in close, enveloping me in an embrace that I try my hardest not to melt into but fail at completely. “Yep. Now I know you really can’t get enough of me if you’re willing to go through the humiliation of wearing that with me.”
I chuckle, wrapping my arms about her in return as I gaze into her eyes. “It’s lucky you’re completely irresistible.”
She smiles, angling in closer, gaze dropping to my awaiting lips and murmurs. “It is, isn’t it?”
We sink into a kiss that has the rest of the world fading away. The taste of spice lingers on my lips, and she drinks it in with a swipe of her tongue, my senses driven to new heights at the feel of it.
I can see a future then—full of Christmases spent with Farah. All happy. All merry. All blissful.
All spent wearing atrocious holiday sweaters.
…And I can’t wait for them all.
Comments
Eve
I mean, I would do it... but I'd need a LOT more kisses to make up for the way that hideous sweater is going to tarnish my reputation. (Of course Tina's gonna love it, though.)
Thomas Fieldburn
🤦🏿♂️ Detective you're a good man. But lord have mercy, that sweater hurt my eyes just imagining it
