Christmas Eve at Masha's House

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It was a gentle winter night, the kind that brings a sense of peacefulness in the stillness. Snowflakes drifted down in a silent cascade outside the window, coating the trees and rooftops in thick layers of white. Inside, the soft glow of warm light contrasted the cold outside. Lucifer and Masha were sitting side by side in his room, manga volumes scattered all around them. They were cocooned in blankets, their fingers sticky from the sweets they'd been sneaking throughout the day.

Lucifer was flipping through the pages of a new manga they had started earlier that week, his silver-white hair tumbling into his face as he frowned in concentration. Masha, sitting next to him with a slight smirk, caught his expression out of the corner of her eye.

"Lucifer," she said, dragging out his name teasingly. "Your serious face is ridiculous, you know?"

Lucifer glanced at her but didn't answer. He simply pushed his hair back, letting the soft strands fall behind his ears. It was a gesture he was used to doing often, and Masha knew this well. His hair was much longer than the boys their age typically had, and with his delicate features, people often mistook him for a girl. Not that Lucifer ever complained. He didn't care much for the opinions of others, but Masha found it endlessly amusing to poke fun at him for it.

"Come on," she continued, leaning over to poke his arm. "You look like you're concentrating on a math problem instead of reading manga."

"Maybe because this fight scene doesn't make any sense," Lucifer mumbled, flipping another page. "The villain just revealed their powers, and it's way too convenient. The story's gotten predictable."

Masha laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. "You always overthink things. Can't you just enjoy it?"

"I am," Lucifer replied, turning another page, but his lips twitched in what might have been a small smile. He didn't want to admit it, but Masha had a way of breaking through his guarded exterior. She always managed to make him feel at ease, and though he wouldn't say it aloud, her presence helped him cope with the ache he sometimes felt—especially during the holidays.

Masha's family had welcomed him into their home after his parents passed when he was only five. It had been a slow, painful process for him to open up to them, but they never pressured him. Masha, especially, had been patient, treating him like he was just another friend, never making him feel like a burden.

As they sat together in the warmth of her room, Lucifer's thoughts wandered to the time of year. Christmas was coming—he could feel it. The decorations in the house, the lights, the festive music that played softly downstairs. He hadn't celebrated Christmas properly since his parents were alive. For years, it had been a quiet, lonely time, but Masha's family made an effort to include him in everything.

"Lucifer," Masha said suddenly, leaning over to tug on his sleeve. "You're spacing out again. Thinking about Christmas?"

He blinked, startled, and turned to her. "Yeah. I guess so."

Masha grinned. "I knew it! You always get this weird look when you're thinking about something serious." She leaned closer, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Are you excited for the Christmas party tomorrow? Mom's been cooking like crazy, and Dad's been decorating the tree since yesterday."

Lucifer shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but his heart wasn't quite as indifferent as he wanted it to be. "It'll be nice, I guess."

Masha rolled her eyes. "You could show a little more enthusiasm, you know. It'll be fun! We'll have food, games, and presents!" She leaned back with a sigh. "I can't believe you don't like presents. That's the best part!"

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