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18+ warning: smut.
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RETURNING TO THE penthouse after the Christmas party was like a second round of torture. Everett automatically went to his room, a usual retreat since Naomi's death, and didn't say a word for the rest of the night. Sloane made herself a cup of black coffee while watching her mother place the gifts she'd hidden away under the Christmas tree. She still wrote, From: Santa, on them, despite Everett at his big age knowing Santa Claus wasn't real.
Sabrina kept going on and on about their "unexpected guest" at the party. She seemed excited about it though, kept gushing about how Spider-Man's appearance would put them in more papers than she hoped for. "Maybe we can invite even more media guests next year, Frank. Even celebrities! Have you ever sold a watch to that Iron Man fellow? " She said excitedly, but Frank only nodded along. His eyes had found Sloane's again, as if he knew something she didn't. Sloane decided to finish her coffee in her room.
She woke up on Christmas Day to the sound of her mother's voice: "Honey ... Sloane ... wake up! I made your favorite pancakes. Everyone's going to start opening presents soon." Her touch was surprisingly warm as she shook Sloane awake. When she opened her eyes, she could've sworn her mother suddenly looked ten years younger and she was sixteen again, waking up on the first Christmas they decided to celebrate after her dad passed. The house didn't smell like Sufganiyah doughnuts anymore; it was replaced with gingerbread and egg nog and candles that smelled like cedar.
But when Sloane blinked again, her mother's wrinkles had set in, the dyed hair returned, and she realized she wasn't sixteen again with unimaginable grief for her late father. Sabrina cooed, "That's my girl. C'mon now," before walking out of the room. Somehow, her voice still sounded like it did all those years ago.
Rubbing at her eyes, Sloane pulled on a large crewneck over the holey t-shirt she wore to bed last night. Her feet padded instinctually into the kitchen, where the scent of homemade pancakes wafted, and she piled some on a plate waiting for her. This was the most kindness Sabrina had shown her since she got to New York.
