Holly Garland on Santa's Lap [COMPLETE]

Chapter 24 ~Peace on Earth~

Last day of the year.

I'm still alive.

For now...

Nick's acting like he's my dad and my jailer all at once. Yesterday, he had to order dinner because I still wasn't feeling up to cooking, and apparently, neither was he—or maybe he'd maxed out his culinary skills. I didn't turn my nose up at the food since I was starving, not having eaten since the day before. And let's be real: this is luxury prison. Instead of stale bread and water, I got salmon lasagna. How was I supposed to resist that and stick to my hunger strike just to make a point?

Salmon lasagna. My favorite dish. The traitor. He's trying every trick in the book to win me over.

Didn't stop me from falling asleep with my back to him, though, making sure not to cross over onto his side of the bed—even with his "subtle" attempt at seduction by sleeping completely naked.

Idiot. If we'd been attacked again in the middle of the night, he'd have looked real smart running around with his junk flapping in the wind!

Anyway. This morning, I'm feeling kind of gloomy. I can't shake the thought that if today's my last day on Earth, I won't even get the chance to say goodbye to my family. On top of that, I'd die knowing I lied to them the last time we were together.

"Morning, Gingerbread. Want a taste of my candy cane?"

The bed shifts behind me, but I don't roll over. I keep my eyes stubbornly shut as I answer.

"If you're gonna start making corny, dirty jokes, I swear, I'm going home for real!"

He bursts into laughter, loud and genuine. Despite myself, I can't help feeling a bit lighter. His laugh has that effect—it's warm and contagious, like everything's fine.

Like all our problems don't exist.

Like we're just a regular couple patching things up after a silly argument.

A smile sneaks onto my face, but I force it back before turning to him.

"I don't see what's so funny," I grumble.

Nick's decided to get dressed—well, sort of. He's wearing boxers and a t-shirt now. Lying on his side, facing me, he's holding an actual candy cane, sucking on it mischievously before answering.

"You're right. Nothing's funny. There's just nothing for breakfast. Had to raid the emergency stash on the tree. Tony wants to know if pancakes are on the menu this morning."

"You could make some. You've got everything you need in your cupboards."

"Tony said my cooking tastes like cardboard."

"Then tell Tony to order a shipment of kids to snack on instead, if he needs to satisfy his ogre's appetite."

"Nah... You were right—junk food isn't good for him. I'm worried, you know? All those chemicals and endocrine disruptors in processed food are terrible for his growth. Plus, he's been a bit down since yesterday. I think your homemade pancakes would really cheer him up. Don't you think?"

This time, I can't hold back a smile. A little laugh even slips out.

Nick takes the opportunity to slide the tip of his candy cane into my slightly open mouth—the same one he'd just slobbered all over. He brushes it across my tongue, then along my lower lip.

"Well? You in, Gingerbread?" he asks, pulling it away.

I swallow hard.

"Fine," I sigh. "But only because I care about Tony's well-being."