#writemas

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—————————————————————————

Kate was used to putting the tree up early.

She knew how you liked to get it up as early as possible—usually right at the tail end of November, or December 1st at the latest. You liked to make a whole day out of it—putting on one of your favorite Christmas movies, indulging in some spiked cocoa, and getting to work decorating every last square inch of the loft.

And Kate loved getting swept up in the cheeriness of it all. She loved the whirlwind of holiday cheer you became. It always increased her own Christmas spirit by at least a dozen.

But this year has been different.

This year, you didn’t beg her to come with you to the Christmas tree farm the very first day it opened to pick out the biggest and best tree from the selections. You didn’t break out the dozen or so Christmas headbands you bought in bulk for Lucky so he could feel included in the festivities. You didn’t chat Kate’s ear off about all the spiked drink concoctions you planned to make at the upcoming holiday party where you would inevitably play bartender. And she hadn’t caught you trying to get the decorations down from the attic by yourself, despite the heaviness of the boxes, because you were just that eager.

The only thing she’d observed was you skipping dinner. And starting to go to bed earlier and earlier every night.

Now, it was a week and a half into December, and the loft you shared with Kate was still barren of any Christmas spirit—no tree, no ornaments, no stockings on the mantle.

Kate came home to a dark apartment—the only source of light coming from the moonlight peeking through the slits of the living room blinds. Kate casts a forlorn glance toward the stairs, knowing that she was sure to find you in bed, buried beneath the covers in the same Peanuts PJs; the TV either off or on mute. The very thought made her heart sink.

She sighs as she kicks off her boots and pairs them beside the front door. She continues toward the stairs in socked feet, turning over in her head what she was going to say when she saw you; with the knowledge that there’s a good chance you hadn’t moved since she left that morning. And knowing you might not have eaten either.

The sight of you is only slightly different than what she’d pictured in her head. You were in bed under the covers, but you were sitting with your back against the headboard rather than lying down. And you wore one of Kate’s hoodies over your PJs, which she assumes you’d donned soon after she left.

“Hi baby,” Kate says gently as she crosses the room to stand beside the bed. She reaches out to carefully remove the hood, watching your little stray strands sprout up all over your head. “You been here all day?” She asks, smoothing your hair down for you as she speaks.

You nod, your gaze focusing on the space between the TV and in the window wall. Kate tries to lock your gaze as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “Can I get you anything, baby?” She asks, massaging your thigh over the material of the comforter. “Some water? Tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?”

You give your head a small shake. “I’m not that thirsty,”

“Well…why don’t I make you something? I’m sort of in the mood to have breakfast for dinner. What about you?” Kate tries again.

You shrug. “I’m not hungry,”

Kate’s shoulders deflate. She tries again to catch your gaze, but you’re still looking past her at the wall.

She looks down at the comforter, tracing miscellaneous patterns into the material as she tries to think of what she could say to you. Anything she could say to you to help you feel better.

About a minute and a half of silence goes by before you finally bring your gaze toward Kate. “I’m sorry,” you say.

“Hmm?” Kate looks up at you.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I know this mood I’m in isn’t ideal,”

Kate’s brows furrow, but before she can weigh in, you continue to speak. “I know it’s Christmastime and I should be happy, and I should be covering every last inch of the loft in decor, and getting drunk on homemade holiday cocktails, and taking Lucky to see Christmas lights. Hell, our tree should’ve gone up over a week ago. I know. But I just can’t do it. I feel…I feel like I’m in water up to my neck, and I just don’t know what to do, or how to make it go away…” your voice catches and your eyes fill, and Kate tuts as she pulls you into her embrace.

“Hey, hey, stop that,” she coos and she holds you close, massaging your back. “I don’t give a damn about a tree or a couple of decorations right now. I care about you, and how you’re feeling. Don’t invalidate yourself like that, it’s perfectly normal to feel like this. It’s not fair, but it’s normal. And I don’t want you to beat yourself up, okay?”

You nod then sniffle, adjusting so you can tuck your head into Kate’s neck.

“Whatever you need, baby, I’m here,” Kate says, caressing your back in gentle circles and squeezing you tightly. “You just say the word,”

You cling to Kate tighter, mumbling a ‘thank you’ into her neck. You think for a moment and then add, “I think I just need to be held,”

Kate doesn’t miss a beat. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,”

She shifts so that her back is to the headboard, and she pulls you down to rest your head on her chest. And that’s how you stay for the next few hours—just Kate running her fingers through your hair, telling you how much she loves you, and you slowly being lulled to sleep with the combination of Kate’s gentle touch and an old Charlie Brown holiday special on the TV.

When you wake up, it’s morning; indicated by the soft light peeking through your bedroom curtains. The lack of a warm body beside you spells out Kate’s absence. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and the first thing you register is a mini tabletop Christmas tree on the bedside table. It’s complete with tiny built-in ornaments and lights, a red base, and a star on top. Your heart warms as you look at it. And then you notice a sliver of paper on the table beside it.

You reach for it, recognizing Kate’s handwriting. ‘good morning, baby. will you meet me in the kitchen when you wake up? i love you. - Kate’

You smile and tuck the note into the pocket of your hoodie, sliding out of bed and dutifully padding down the hall to meet Kate in the kitchen.

The smell of waffles and coffee greets you, and you spot your girlfriend by the cabinets, carefully pulling down breakfast plates. You also see Lucky in his dog bed, one of the Christmas headbands you’d bought him last year perched on his head. His head pops up as he notices you standing there, his tail wagging happily, but he seems content to keep sitting right where he is. You wave at him before turning your attention back to your girlfriend.

You move to wrap your arms around her from behind, smiling as she jolts at the touch. “I saw the little tree,” you say as you push up on your toes to rest your head on her shoulder. “Thank you, baby,”

Kate smiles and turns in your arms to face you. Her arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer. “Glad it put that smile on your face,” she says. “I went out and got it while you slept. I know it’s not much, and I know it’s not a real tree or anything, but—“

“Hush,” you quiet her, leaning in to peck her on the lips. “It’s perfect,”

Kate melts when you kiss her, her forehead resting against yours. “I’m glad you think so. Because I think you’re perfect. And I’d do anything to make you happy. I know this time of year isn’t always good to you,”

“But you are,” you retort, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear. “You always are. And I love you so, so much, Katie,”

With that, you kiss her again tenderly, and she kisses you back, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

After a few more kisses and a few more soft declarations of love, the two of you finally separate to dig into the breakfast Kate’s prepared.

The forest was eerie. But not eerie in the way many people think of: it was silver. Personally, I found it quite charming. Not the first time I went there, but in the numerous times after that, certainly.

“Melinoë… where are we?” I shrugged. 

“Somewhere. I found it on one of my accidental teleportations a few years ago. Pretty, right?”

Vasileios walked in a large circle, wonder glazing his eyes. “Very.” 

  I laughed, tugging him along. “Come on, then. I’ll show you my second favourite place here.” We ran through the silver trees, tripping over each other and laughing, joyful even in Vasi’s concern. It was only a few minutes until we stopped at the edge of a lake. 

  The silver trees reflected onto the dark water, creating an alluring mirror on the lake. Silver streaks through dark water, rippling and curling around themselves. I pulled Vasileios towards the small wooden dock that hung out over the water. 

  We sat in comfortable silence for about a minute before Vasileios asked the question I had been waiting for. 

  “You really don’t know where we are?” Vasileios watched me. I sighed. 

“No. I think somewhere in Harulen, most likely. But I’ve looked through all of the books, explored around whenever I visited, and never found any mention or sign of this place.” 

He nodded, and we relapsed into silence. But not for long, because in two seconds I stood. I ignored Vasileios’ questions and dived into the water. Underwater, I pulled Vasi in after me. I immediately started laughing as he came back up, choking and spluttering. 

  “Mel!” He coughed. “What was that for?” 

“Love you too, Vasi. Look up.” Confused, he did as I directed. In the lake, there was a gap in the trees. Through that gap was a gorgeous sunset that I knew perfectly well occurred at this time of day. And when Vasileios twirled around to pull me close, I smiled. 

  Perfect.

-----

Tags: @the-ellia-west @seastarblue @cb-writes-stuff @corinneglass @vesanal @sunflowerrosy @thatoneacerobot @nossumusstellae

The whispers of the damned, the dead, the forbidden, were always present. They screeched through broken windows, startling Kaiden from her sleep. A cool breeze was permanently blowing, making her shiver. She tried to get up, but found she could not with the rope binding her hands to another’s.

“Tried that already, Kaids.” the person whose hands they were said. He coughed.

She turned her head—‘gods, that hurt’—to him, the little light that emanated from his wings just barely illuminating his features. Despite that, she could see the furrow of his brow and the tension in his jaw. The bite of regret suddenly reminded her: They had been captured. On the most important mission of their lives, no less.

“Felix. Where…?” she started, still woozy.

“Some church, I think. Just past Liaba Ridge.”

“Okay… well, when did you wake up?”

“An hour ago? Not sure—also your head’s bleeding, those guys nailed it really bad.”

Right on cue, she felt a trickle of blood roll down the side of her face, mingling with the other blood pooling underneath them. “Ouch.”

“Ouch is right,” he replied, shifting his weight slightly, which elicited winces from the both of them. “We aren’t getting out of here anytime soon.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, urgently, worry tinging her tone.

“I think I broke my pinkie toe. Pair that with my throat being—” a short coughing fit, then, “—sore, to say the least, the ol’ wing tears, and the possible cracked ribs? I’ve felt better. How are you?”

“…Not good.”

Felix chuckled, but it was without mirth. “Blunt as always, Kaids.”

Silence settled between them as they thought about where to go from here. They were knocked out, beaten—if the mysterious injuries they’d sustained were anything to go by—tied up, and possibly left for dead in an abandoned building. It wasn’t looking good.

Still, they’d faced worse odds before. All the pair needed was a plan.

“We’re trapped, yes, but we’re not completely incapacitated,” she observed, cocking her head to Felix’s legs. “Our legs are… relatively okay. All we need to do is—”

“—figure out where we are, then—”

“—find a way back to the rendezvous point. We lay low until the others come.” she finished with a smile.

“Alrighty Kaidy, sounds good. But,” Kaiden felt a prick of magic, and heard Felix sigh, “Magic’s blocked. I can’t sever the ropes. Maybe if I…” he started wiggling, seemingly trying to get a better angle to work from. His wings, however, were crushing themselves even more.

“Hey!” she hissed. “Careful, your wings!”

“Well I can’t untie it if I stay still, now can I?” he huffed, but his voice was tinged with pain.

“Let me do it.” Kaiden tried her hands at the binds, but to no avail. They were too numb to be of any use. Damned cold.

Kaiden groaned. “This is gonna take ages.”

“Well at least the ropes aren’t enchanted…?” Felix offered, but his tone soured fast. “Oh, fuck me.”

She was going to ask what made him upset, but then she felt it: the ropes tightening of their own accord. Her eyes darted to where she imagined the door was, and dread filled her as she realized it, too, was enchanted, glowing slightly at the edges.

They were trapped. Clearly, their captors knew what they were doing.

‘Well, time for a new plan, I suppose.’ she thought. Her mind whirled, like the winds outside, as the spirits—‘useless things’—looked on. Despite her best efforts, she came up dry.

Kaiden blinked back tears as her planning turned to panicking. They’d die here, of starvation, or the cold—or their injuries, even—at this rate. A pit opened in her stomach, threatening to swallow every last bit of composure she had.

Until she felt an unsteady hand on the small of her back. And a pair of familiar wings, stretched out on both sides, their faint glow slightly tainted from the tears in the membrane.

The surprise shortly stunned her. “…Did you just hug me? Or try to?”

“Maybe,” he said, so gently Kaiden almost missed it. “And before you say ‘I don’t need it, I’ll be fine,’ just know I can feel your anxiety from here.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he added, “One of the many perks of being Bound to you. We’ll be okay.”

She tried to object, but deep down she knew that this would be best: letting herself calm down and then think would assist her in the long run. Besides, when she really focused on their soul bind, she found that Felix was just as scared as her. So she leaned her head on his, and took a breath. “Say that again.”

“We’ll be okay?”

“Mm.”

“We’ll be okay,” he shifted his weight again, carefully this time. “We’ll be okay.”

Kaiden closed her eyes and tried to relax.

“… how many more times do I have to say this, by the way?”

“Don’t stop saying it. At least till you can see that I’ve calmed down. And do watch your wings, please.”

Felix chuckled. “As you wish. We’ll be okay.”

———

they were not, in fact, okay :>

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__________________________________ It is said that when a battle turns from the fighting for your life, to the destruction of that which we reside upon, it is no longer a battle, but a sin. A crime against nature and all the laws that tied our feeble bodies down to this strained reality.

As the days go on and the sky turns black with smoke, the ground ashen and covered in the bones of those killed, I had slowly learned that the statement was nothing if not true. It was law. The only amendment would to take out the middle. Battle is nothing but sin.

Gunfire was a symphony symbiotic with existence, the screams and yelps of the dying complimenting them, the grand finale: the smell and look of the dead. Orders were screamed and shots were fired, bombs were dropped, cities were burned. There was a cause when we all sat down planning this damn thing. There was a purpose when we pledged our hearts to fight and we drank and jeered at the corporations that oppressed us.

I raised my heavy metal weapon and shot thrice at the nearest stumbling soldier, who collapsed upon the ground with a spray of dust. The sound should've been deafening. I should've had satisfaction. But I simply ducked down behind my metal wall and lay there. Beads of sweat dripped down the back of my neck, my feble metal plate protection caked with dust and dirt. I had scratches running down my arms and legs, some on my face, others on my hands and feet. The second-in-command of a group of rugged murderers and criminals. I fit the part.

A round of gunfire assaulted my ears, shells pinging into someplace beside me in the wall. It was my one barrier between life and death. Ironic that a piece of scrap metal was the only thing keeping me alive.

I took a few gulping breaths, before raising my weapon slightly above the wall and waiting for a second round. I nearly flinched when it came, shells pinging against the metal closer to me, a few whizzing past me and thudding into the dust behind, spraying the stuff into the air. I immediately crouched low. Bloody bastards don't know when to quit, I thought resentfully.

There was a quick moment when I was alone behind the wall, then an instant later he was beside me. I turned quickly to see blond hair caked with dirt, face half obscured by a mask. And that stupid cloak that he would always wear, damn near painting a target on his back. Devan—although most people just called him 'lord' or 'sir'—was the commander who had made this all happen. Who had created an army of soldiers to fight for a common cause. Who had split open planets to fight for the greater good.

And he was beside me looking defeated.

"Shit, Devan," I grabbed his shoulders, noticing a mess of maroon in his shoulder.

Devan shrugged me off, although he clearly winced when I touched him. "It's nothing."

"It's not fucking nothing," I snarled, grabbing him once more. "You've been shot."

He looked away, not making an effort to remove my grip this time. "It won't matter anyways."

It was a strange thing to say. Not like him at all.

"What won't matter? What the hell are you even talking about?" I said, instinctivly shaking him before remembering to stop myself.

Devan remained silent.

"Devan, you answer me right fucking now. What won't matter?"

"Let go of me," he said, voice low.

I did nothing.

He repeated himself, louder this time. My eyebrows knit in confusing, and although I didn't make a single conscious effort to do so, my arms fell to my sides.

Devan struggled to shift himself upwards, leaning against the wall and quietly cursing. "I didn't… it's not…" he started to speak, before falling silent. Around us, hellfire rained and soldiers ran to their graves. And yet it was quiet.

"We're not going to win this," he said at last.

"Don't say that." I muttered. I didn't know why tried to lie to myself. To say that it was all going to be okay.

"We're not going to win this battle. And we're not going to win this fucking war. Unless…" he paused, staring into the distance, face twisted in an unrecognizable expression. "Unless we give them something to fight for."

"Something to… what the fuck are you saying?"

Devan shook his head, what seemed to be the ghost of a smile present on his broken face. "You know what I'm saying."

The words were almost a whisper; something that not a single soul was meant to hear.

And it was quiet again.

"We can expose the corporations in some way, do… something. Anything." I tried. Devan's face remained absolute.

"I am already dead." Devan stared at the ground. "I have been dead for a long time."

It was true.

I could not let it be true.

"No, I - fuck." I shook my head, tears beginning to form. "I'm never going to forgive myself for this, let alone you."

"You don't have to forgive me," he said. "All you have to do is keep going." For once, Devan turned his head upwards, to look into my eyes. "You can't stop. No matter what. We win this or we fucking die."

I almost sobbed at that. "What do you want me to tell them?" I demanded. "Tell them their commander threw himself at the enemy, killed himself in the name of our cause, because death was his only way out? That's what you want???"

Devan was looking at the dirt again. "You tell them I was murdered in cold blood by the soliders. You tell them they laughed as I died. You - you tell them anything. Just keep it going. Please."

This time, he didn't bother raising his head to look at me. His words were directed to the dirt, and the dirt alone.

"So you're just going to risk it all—and never tell anyone?" I demaned. Tears were flowing, my insides becoming more and more hollow every second.

And Devan looked at me one last time, smiling. "There's some chances you just have to take."

Without another word, he turned and walked out into hell. There he died.

He was murdered in cold blood by the enemy soldiers.

And they laughed as he died.

__________________________________

Thx for reading <3 this was really fun to do on my random late night boost of energy.