𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐏A𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄, jp

Christmas Day.

Izzy woke before the sun had even touched the frost-bitten windowpane. For a moment, she just lay there, listening to the silence that stretched through the Lupin house. She couldn't hear any clattering pans, that was strange. Her mother was always up extra early on Christmas preparing a huge breakfast, and then as soon as that was over she would prepare Christmas dinner. She'd spend hours on the roast potatoes and make sure the Yorkshire puddings were made from scratch. Christmas Hopes day, she loved it, she was probably one of the only people that actually enjoyed cooking on Christmas.

She couldn't hear any music drifting from the radio like every other Christmas either. That was strange, but perhaps her parents just wanted a lay in. That was fair, Izzy thought. They'd probably be up in a few hours anyway.

She's decided that today she was going to try. Really try. She had to, it was Christmas, and she wanted to make sure that her own sadness didn't ruin the day, even if might've ruined the rest of the holidays.

She sat up slowly and pulled the covers tighter around herself for a second longer before finally getting up. Her room was cold, and the floorboards bit at her toes when she stood. Still, she moved with purpose: to the shower, where she scrubbed her hair and made sure it was extra clean. Christmas always seemed like a day to look nice, even if you weren't going anywhere. She brushed her teeth, and then braided her damp hair into two neat Dutch braids.

Picking out an outfit made her feel anxious, but she reminded herself that she was trying her hardest to be okay today, and she had to force through any bad feelings. She ended up going with a pair of jeans and a soft red jumper, her favourite one, even if it felt a little looser these days.

She looked in the mirror and forced a small smile.

This is fine, she thought to her reflection. You can do today.

Downstairs, the house remained still.

She lit the fire herself, awkwardly, but it worked, and curled up on the sofa with Little Women, the cover cracked from so many rereads. She tried her best to focus on the words, on the warmth, she tried not to notice the ache still sitting just behind her ribs. Tried not to feel how quiet everything was.

Her eyes skimmed sentences without absorbing them.

When the grandfather clock in the hall chimed eleven, she looked up, hopeful. But still nothing. No footsteps. No voices. No smells of breakfast or rustling of wrapping paper. Just her.

By noon, she was cold again. Her fingers had stopped turning the pages. Her hope had started thinning at the edges. With a sigh, she closed the book gently and stood, putting the fire out carefully before heading back upstairs.

She'd been sat in her bedroom for at least an hour when she finally heard them, her parents' footsteps going down the stairs, slow and soft, like they didn't want to disturb the walls.

Finally.

Her smile returned, and she felt eager to get Christmas started, sure, it was a little late, but that was fine. Perhaps after this day, she'd try and make more efforts with her family. She knew she needed to, even though the idea made her feel queasy. She had to somewhat get her life back together and this was going to be her starting point.

She left her room and made her way back down.

Hope and Lyall were in the kitchen, standing close together, hands wrapped around steaming mugs. They weren't talking. They weren't smiling.

Izzy hovered by the door until they noticed her.

Hope blinked, startled. "Oh! Morning, sweetheart. You're... up."