The Hateful Heavy Heart | 18+

25 - Christmas with You

We made it back to Ruggiero's house around a quarter 'til eleven. Between the drive from my dad's house in Rocky Villa to my apartment and my apartment to Ruggiero's neighborhood, I was almost ready to doze off. Almost.

Knowing that Ruggiero and I still needed to exchange gifts was a motivator to stay awake and alert for a little while longer.

Unfortunately, we had a few slight inconveniences to take care of before we could share our small Christmas. For one, there were plenty of things in the car, such as foiled to-go plates, gift bags, and other things he naturally had in there. Two, most of it needed to be taken in the house.

The door slammed shut as Ruggiero got out of the truck. He went around to the other side and opened my door, offering a hand to me. "Here, baby, just take the plates in. I'll get everything else."

"Thanks." With a smile, I grabbed his hand and allowed him to help me to my feet. He then grabbed the plates out of the seat and, after reaching a hand in his pocket, handed them to me along with his house key.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'll be in soon, bella."

"Okay," I told him. I started up the concrete driveway before taking a left to the pathway that led to his front door.

Shifting the plates to my left hand, I stuck the key into the door and let myself in. I shut the door with my backside before stepping out of my shoes by the front door.

All I wanted to do was slump on the couch and close my eyes, but I pushed myself to the kitchen. I put our slices of eggnog pie and my mother's peppermint bark cheesecake in the fridge. In the kitchen, I drank another glass of water.

"Jace!" he called. I could hear the bags rustling together as he brought them inside.

"In the kitchen," I responded, making sure to make my voice loud enough for him to hear me.

A few minutes later, he walked in. He flicked the light switch on before coming to stand in front of me. "Hi," he said softly, lowering his forehead against mine.

I eyed him as I drank a sip of my water. "Hi."

"How're you feeling?" he asked, lazily placing his hands on my hips.

How was I feeling? Tired, certainly, but there was another emotion I couldn't name. It rubbed on the side of being an anxious excitement. "I dunno," I answered honestly. With a sigh, I turned in his arms, setting the glass on the counter.

He didn't follow me, allowing me the space I sought. Ruggiero stood there, tall, dangerously handsome in the dimly lit kitchen. "How does a bath sound? I made sure to grab some salt for you."

I'd almost forgotten about Ruggiero's offer to run me a bath. Thus far, he'd been a man of his word, so I didn't know why I hadn't seen that coming. A bath did sound good, though. My feet were killing me.

I said nothing in reply, but Ruggiero moved anyway. "I'll go start the water, amorina. Have a seat," he told me, "you look terribly tired."

Grabbing my hand, Ruggiero led me back to the living room, gently backing me onto the couch.

"Relax, per favore," he said, kissing me on my forehead. "I'll come back and get you when it's ready."

I did as I was told, laying back on the couch. Though it didn't bring much relief to my back, it did feel good to be off of my feet for a bit. "Thank you," I murmured, "really."

He smiled at me and gathered the bags in his hand. "It's my pleasure, mia amata. Per te, niente è troppo." Before I could complain about not understanding, he said, "For you, nothing is too much."