𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ♥

christmas in holly(wood)

my alarm beeped me awake a seven thirty sharp, and i groaned, realizing i'd forgotten to turn it off before bed last night. i briefly wondered what had made it slip my mind, until my foot swung off the side of the bed and clinked into an empty vodka bottle. brilliant, i'd decided to drown my sorrows, alone. i guess you could say i was taking it pretty hard, i'd never been alone for christmas before, and i'd sort of hoped to sleep through it considering my parents were on opposite sides of the planet right now and i wasn't expecting a phone call from either of them.

evan would call, but not until tonight, because he's got a big family and a lot of relatives to appease. he asked me to come with him, but i don't think i'm ready for the huge, extended family deal, especially at christmas when everything's supposed to be so overly jolly. i sighed, stretching and standing to straighten out my bed sheets; wistfully thinking about the morning's when both sides were rumpled, or, better, when beautiful, blonde curls were splayed on my pillow and i'd just watch him sleep for a while. i staggered to the mirror, my head feeling too heavy for my neck as my shoulders sagged, and noticed that i resembled a creature from 'where the wild things are'.

"best grab a shower," i mumbled to myself, raking my hair out of my face and plodding to the bathroom. after a long, hot shower with plenty of soap and lotion, i was feeling half way human and my headache had cleared considerably. i threw on a tank top and a pair of sweatpants, and hopped the stairs two at a time, suddenly overly eager for a coffee fix and maybe some toast. with half a pot in me, i was definitely feeling more perky, and i dropped into a barstool to read the back of a cereal box. a slight clatter, like something falling off the mantle-piece, snapped my head up. 

i glanced around frantically, dropping near-silently off the stool and darting for the carving knives. i grabbed the biggest, most intimidating one and slipped out of the kitchen and into the front room, where the sound had come from. a picture-frame was lying face down on the floor, and i held my breath as i made my way over to it. i snatched it up and put it back in place, dropping the knife back against my leg to conceal it. one of the ornaments on my tree made the slightest noise, and i spun, launching myself backwards at the little shudders from a point of impact somewhere within it.

"who, whose there?" i asked, trying to keep my voice level.

"goddamn," the tree hissed, and i swallowed hard, realizing it wasn't my imagination this time, no matter how much i wished it would be.

"just come out, i won't hurt you," i declared, and the tree chuckled. it was familiar. hands appeared underneath it, long, pale fingers that couldn't belong to anyone else.

"evan?" i gasped, dropping the knife.

"i wanted to surprise you love," he laughed, pulling himself fully out. my eyes widened and i had to bite my lip to stop the moan threatening to burst out of my at the sight of him. his skin was reflected in shining alabaster by the christmas lights he wore, wrapped around and around his bare torso, thighs, ankles. i swallowed at the bow tied around his throat, just waiting to be unwrapped and devoured.

"you certainly... surprised me," i managed shakily and he smirked.

"you like?" he asked, gesturing to his naked body. i nodded, licking my lips and taking a step forward.

"you mine?" i asked, meeting his eyes as though i was genuinely worried.

"all yours," he whispered, meeting me in the middle and pulling me against him, his hands running up under my shirt.

"what's my present then?" he asked cockily, and i smirked.

"you mean you're not into sweatpants?" i mocked shock, and he laughed.