𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 || 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛

22 - Christmas Special (ft. The Grinch) - Part 1

𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸'𝚍 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛

𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 – 𝘕𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘋𝘦𝘦𝘱

AUSTIN

A mountain of failed gift-wrapping attempts sat next to me as I started what I hoped would be my last one. Smoothing out the foiled paper flush against mahogany slats and carefully placing one of the two vinyl records I'd gotten for Elsie strategically in the middle. A scissor still dangled from my pinky while my palm attempted ease the frustration built up behind my eyeball.

"Okay, it's fine. I can do this. It's just wrapping a fucking gift." I muttered to myself, something I did quite often. When you have to reassure yourself as much as I did, saying the words just in your head got to be inadequate.

Taking a deep breath, I repeated the process I had already done what seemed like a million times – fold (poorly), tape, fold, tape, add a cute 'to/from' sticker tag, a bow, then holding it out to admire my handiwork.

Then, paranoia all over again.

My stupid fucking brain.

I tried my best to delicately tear a small corner from the taped gift in order to double check that it was the right record. And obviously, it was the same fucking one as the last ten, but of course it destroyed the wrap job completely.

"Fuck!" I swore, letting out a charged, frustrated groan before chucking the kitchen scissors across the living room floor. Then, ripping the gift wrap off, crumping it into a ball and repeated the action, landing opposite the scissors.

My foolish coping trick was the first line of defense when I attempted to focus on one of the thousand skyscrapers that scattered outside my floor-to-ceiling windows. City glows and holiday twinkles littered the midnight skyline, then a wall of snow flurries poured over the scene. There wasn't a damn thing out there that interested me enough to stare at to distract me. If anything, the arrogant bustling city only added to my heightened state. My eyes then scanned across the room – the wall, no – the couch, no – the coffee table –

The mug on the coffee table. Elsie's mug.

Reminding me of how we had spent almost every Christmas Eve together for the past 6 years. Well, we met on Christmas eve and sat in a breakfast diner until about 2 am Christmas morning. But the traditions really began when we moved into our apartment the year after that, sophomore year. We'd find the most pathetic looking evergreen at the closest tree farm and brought it home.

We were both so broke we couldn't afford real decorations, so we'd buy plastic dollar store ornaments and even made some out of paper. Like kindergarteners we'd get a thick stack of construction paper and create those chain garlands, draping them all over the house. Then on Christmas eve we'd wear tacky matching PJs, make the sweetest hot chocolate with the biggest marshmallows and watch cheesy Christmas movies.