Saint Nick

17. December

Way too early that Monday morning, Hazel woke up and sighed as she felt a body nuzzle closer to hers from behind.

A faint smile pulled at her lips. She liked waking up like this, but her heart was all in a fuss about what would happen when he left. You got addicted to these sorts of things much too easily, and that was with an average guy who was average in bed and average outside of it.

– Nick was anything but average, in every measurement you were to look at him.

Hazel slowly shifted around and felt the arm slumped over her waist tighten when she placed a hand on his chest. She smiled when he rumbled, telling her that he was awake, but just barely. She started twirling her finger around his right nipple, playing with the soft dust of his chest hair until she felt his lips kiss the top of her head.

"Tickles..." He murmured.

"Do you want me to stop?"

His hand came over hers and kept it put when she started to remove it. "No."

Smiling warmly, Hazel leaned in and pressed her lips to his hand. She kissed his fingers, his knuckles, then flipped his hand over and kissed his calloused palm as well. Sometimes she wondered exactly how hard he worked everyday.

"Nick? Can I... can I ask you a question?"

He stirred ever so slightly, but then took her hand and braided his fingers through hers. "Ask me anything, Hazel."

She exhaled at the ease in his voice, the slight gravel of sexual tension grating along it.

"What kind of manufacturing do you do?" She asked, watching their intertwined hands with a thumping heart.

"Toys, mostly," He replied.

"Really?" Hazel lifted her head up and couldn't help but smile. "That's kind of ironic."

"How so?"

"Well, you're pretending to be Santa and you make toys for a living. You could say you're taking the role a bit too seriously."

He laughed at her joke, but it sounded a little strained for some reason. Hazel noticed and frowned. Maybe it had sounded like she was making fun of his job. "I'm sorry, you know I meant that as a positive thing. I like the fact that you volunteer as Santa," She said.

His eyes looked down and found hers. "You don't ever find it... tiresome?"

Hazel shook her head, resolutely. "No, not at all. Nick..." She shifted slowly and untangled her hand from his to place it against his cheek. His five o'clock shadow chafed her palm, but it felt nice as his eyes and body softened at her warm touch. "It's a beautiful job. If you really do it every year, then every year you choose to bring Christmas cheer and happiness to thousands of children. How could one possibly get tired of that?"

His eyes closed and he blew out a long breath that sounded heavy. Hazel leaned in and kissed his nose softly, seeing his lips twitch ever so slightly.

"You make it sound so wonderful and easy," He said, his voice lowering to a rasp. "Some days I just want to quit and forget it all..."

Hazel moved a little closer and stroked his cheekbone. "Nobody's forcing you to do it. It's a sweet job, but if it's making you unhappy..."

"That's the thing," His eyes slowly lifted and found hers. His lips twitched again. "It doesn't make me unhappy. It makes me... lonely. I work all year long, then travel away in the most merry of seasons, and every year... it reminds me of how lonely I am. Thousands of kids, yet all of them go home with their families at the end of the day. I've never had that."