#mistletoe2021

The Christmas music was turned down low, just a light hum in the background; as to not wake his husband, who slept on the floor above. Olivier sat at the breakfast counter of their newly brought home, newspaper laid out. He looked up, taking in the scene before him. They’d decorated the kitchen to the high hills; when he said they, he meant Laurent --- he wasn’t sure if it was part of his job, as an Interior designer, or just the fact that he adored Christmas.

But Olivier was not complaining, it was less work for him. 

The snow fell and coated their land; he sighs, this was the life he’d always imagined. One where everything was a little less complicated. The smell of breakfast wafted around the room as he moved from his spot to flip the sizzling food, humming along beneath his breath as he reaches across to place the pancakes in a stack alongside the fruit. He wanted to surprise his husband. Being a plumber kept him pretty busy most days, so much so he felt he hadn’t given his partner enough attention.

So he’d decided to surprise him with breakfast in bed. It was also a special day for them. It was the anniversary of their release from jail, something they’d always celebrated. Because it’d been the beginning of their relationship, he remembered all too well when he’d been allocated to a new cell, only to meet the famous Laurent St. Pierre. Grabbing the plate, he ascended the stairs, on the way to wake the love of his life.

But as he reached the door, he stopped to appreciate the sight before him, leaning against the door frame with as slightly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

‘‘Good morning, babe.’‘ Olivier cooes. 

​she spotted him the moment that she walked in, the sight of oliver bringing a slight smile onto her face. she treaded very carefully these days, finding herself personally wrapped up in the very thing that stole her brother. oliver was good company and while she tried very hard to keep herself from getting close to anyone... she did a really bad job at actually following her own rules. 

Olivier wished when he entered the room his cerulean eyes hadn’t landed upon her, with a drying mouth and a pounding heart, there he stood in his pristine black tux that he’d kept reserved for this particular evening --- it was meant to be fun, now he was sure it would be anything but. There were things better left unsaid, and times where he wished he could become invisible and disappear. But they did not afford him that luxury. As he caught himself staring at her, the Christmas party bustling with life but none of that seemed to take his interest, pulling his shoulders back. 

He shouldn’t approach, but Olivier had never been very good at listening. 

Eyes quickly slide across the room to check that Varden was not in sight before his long legs carried him across the room in her direction; he never really knew how their encounters were going to go, but here he was approaching her. This was a bravery that he could only recognise as liquid courage. 

‘‘Good evening, Emilia.’‘ Olivier states upon arrival. 

After everything that had happened as of recently, that fact that she stood looking at the grand Christmas tree was a miracle, some would say. Dazzling lights and festivities had always been her favorite time of year; even when she’d spent the last few alone and working --- there was something about it that had always caused her a sense of joy; that was unknown for the woman who was always so ice cold --- this time of year, when it was freezing cold outside was the only time she’d thawed a little. The event of her shooting had not changed her dramatically, as some would assume, but had made her somewhat momentarily appreciative of her surroundings; no doubt that would be over by the morning. 

How she wished she had more information. 

Turning from the tree, once the moment had passed, she came to a dead stop. Varden Lefebvre. In just one second everything seemed to change --- her demeanor and mood dropping, blood running cold. She looked up at his towering body, shoulders pulled back and jaw jutted. This was not an expected sight. In fact, it was a confusing one. It was now that she wished she’d came with a friend out into public for the first time.

Was he following her? Was this the next attempt on her life?

‘’Varden, this is unexpected.’’ Melissa states slowly, giving him a once over before landing her orbs upon his face. ‘’What brings you out for the holidays?’’ It was tight. Every word, an essence of hatred, lingered behind as she mustered the best smile she could; as false as they came. Melissa Lin tried her best to be as diplomatic as possible, but even she was struggling; especially after her recent conversation with death as she’d almost came knocking on its door step. 

‘‘I’d say it’s a pleasure, but we both know that’d be a lie---’‘ She pauses. ‘‘--- And I know we’re both grown enough to leave the bullshit at the door.’‘