THEN AGAIN • TC ✔️

24. By Candlelight

Christmas Eve is possibly the best day of the year for Timmy. It always has been. He just likes the feeling of anticipation, likes the sense that everything is exciting, likes the last minute gift-wrapping (because he can never get it done on time) and the movies and the food and Midnight Mass and just...he likes it. A lot. Even though Christmas Eve five years ago was three days after his brother died.

He's used to it, now. He can talk about it without breaking down and Christmas sort of feels the way it used to, even if there's a great big gap where his brother used to be.

Only this year, it's different.

This year, absolutely everything has changed, and maybe that's a good thing. No, that is a good thing. It means Timmy won't be comparing everything to the past, because now there's nothing to compare it to. It's a new start.

(Even if he feels bad that his parents are going to be on their own. But he's promised to facetime them for at least an hour if they can manage to work their iPad, and he's flying out for the New Year while Clem's seeing her family. So, not really too bad.)

Timmy gets partially dressed (partially because he's managed to smear toothpaste on his shirt and his only other Christmassy shirt is on the drying rack in the living room. Partially because he's wearing tartan pyjama pants and a pair of reindeer slipper boots that used to belong to Michael. They're a few sizes too big and the bottoms are scuffed, but. Timmy doesn't know. He quite likes walking around in his brother's shoes.)

When he walks into the kitchen, Clem is wearing a silk camisole and shorts. And knee high stripy socks. And reindeer antlers. And there's a string of tinsel looped around her neck. Timmy watches her thump a few throw pillows on the sofa. Smiles as the blanket which she's draped over the back falls off and she scoffs. Zooms around the back of the couch to pick it up.

It appears that she's only just seen Timmy, because she gasps. Holds a hand over her chest. Tugs off the antlers.

"Keep 'em on. They're cool," Timmy laughs. Makes his way over to the drying rack and picks up a t-shirt with a little sprig of ivy embroidered in the top left corner. It's still kind of damp but he shrugs it over his head. "Matches my slippers, too," he muses. Smiles as Clem's gaze drops to his feet and her face breaks out into a grin.

"Oh, now they're fucking cool," she gushes. "Where'd you get them?"

Timmy shrugs offhandedly. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, sorry, I was making some. I got...distracted," she mutters, pulling the tinsel from around her neck and draping it over the mantlepiece instead. "That's why the antlers...cleaning up..." (something else that Timmy can't quite make out because she bends down to fish something from underneath the coffee table.)

"Oh, I meant, do you want some?" Timmy corrects, and she nods. Rearranges a little felt robin so it's propped up against the mirror.

"I'd love one, thanks," she says. Timmy catches her eye in the mirror. Smiles and looks away quickly as he goes over to the carafe. He's not quite sure how long it's been brewing for, but he gives it another minute or two, just in case. Meanwhile, he watches Clem skitter around the living room, turning on fairy lights, lighting candles. Tries to look anywhere but the hem of her shorts which are probably a bit too short. Focuses on the fact that it's Christmas Eve and he's really, really happy.

It's the first time that has happened in five years.

Clem tips the spent matches into the trash. Practically bounces over to him and leans her hands on the countertop as she bounces her weight on the balls of her feet. Timmy gets the message that he should probably start pressing down on the top of the carafe, so he starts. Slowly. Like you're supposed to. Only slowly seems to be too slow for Clem, who reaches over. Places both hands on top of his and presses down.