Linda's POV
December 24th, 1969
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I opened my eyes to a bright morning, the sun shining down on both of us and making a golden appeal on my girlfriend's back. I love watching her sleep, it's so peaceful. The makeup comes off and it's her natural face sitting in front of me. She wrestles a little trying to find me and I wrap my arms around her torso, giving her a peck on the forehead. Her eyes open and I smile.
"Merry Christmas, my love."
"Merry Christmas, Lin'."
She kisses me softly on the lips, resting her head on my chest before carving nibbles down my neck.
"Alright, just wait. You know what we talked about, Mo. Only when we know for sure anybody else isn't here." I warn her, but resting my forehead on hers so she knows I'm not upset.
"But ever since I knew you felt the same, that's all I've wanted to do with you. It's a new experience. Rory's spending time with family anyway, John's with his family for a Liverpool trip, and Violet is back in Birmingham with their family so she has no reason to try and hang with Rory." She goes on to list every single person we have hung out with and their holiday plans.
"Hey, why aren't you with your family up in Liverpool like John?"
"Why aren't you at your parent's house back in New York?" She mocks me, getting out of bed in a huff and slipping on some trousers to go with her night shirt. I take off after her into the kitchen, crossing my arms in frustration.
"Because my family doesn't celebrate Christmas, really. We do more of a Hanukkah mixed with the excitement of Christmas. I just came back from my parent's place a few days ago, you know that. I think your Mom would be overjoyed to see you this weekend. We can take a train up there right now if we get ready quick enough-"
"Well I don't want to see her, so just drop it." She snaps, gripping onto the ends of the counter.
"Maureen...." I place my hand on her but she flinches and crosses her arms.
"Get away from me."
"I'm not fighting on Christmas. How about we just start preparing the food for tonight, hm?" I suggest and see her release some tension in her posture. She goes to the fridge and grabs some of the ingredients for dinner. I get a head start on breaking some stale bread for cubes later and slicing up the herbs so it won't be a pain in the rush to get things in the oven.
"I'm gonna put music on." She mumbled and rushed out of the kitchen. I sighed and placed things into containers as fumbling with plastic continued outside. The peppy song of jazz fluttered in the air. Mo came back into the room and slid onto the side counter on the opposite side of the sink from where I was slicing carrots. She was gonna pull her hair into a ponytail but I stopped her and wiped the water off my fingers.
"I love it when you have your hair down." I tell her, rubbing a thumb on her cheek.
"But long hair is feminine, and you can't be all stereotypically feminine and be feminist. Plus hair could get in the food." She contradicts me and looks down sullenly, fiddling with the bottom hem of her shirt.
"Who said dress is the same as political stances? You can still dress feminine and be feminist, you can still have long hair and be feminist. The food though, you probably should put it back. I'll braid it and to make it even, I'll put my hair in a clip if it'll stay." She whispered an 'ok' and I got a hair ribbon and one of the clips I had left at her place before I left for my parent's house for the holidays. I grab her hair and run my fingers through it to act as a comb. I had never noticed how long her hair really is, almost like a running river of darkness. I tie it off at the end and feel it styled the way down, remembering my own hair when she gives me a look over her shoulder.
