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CHRISTMAS DAY came and... there was no snow. At all.
The sun shined as if to throw it in my face even more.
But I wasn't the only one grumbling.
"Shame on you, Santa Claus," Jeff grumbled as he arrived on his truck just seconds after all of us - Marga, Eva and I - were huddled close together, unlocking the diner. At all of us, present, he groaned even louder. "Guess we really have to open now, huh? You know, if no one just came..."
"And what?" Marga barked. "So you could give us an earful after? Hell no, Jeffy, go in and heat up the damn meat."
Instead of the usual wave away of annoyance, Jeff glared at her until he got inside, stomping over until he slammed the kitchen door behind all of us, startling all three of us.
Marga glared at the door. "What's up his cranky ass?"
"I don't think his family came for Christmas," Eva murmured.
I sighed. "Again? I thought they were getting along this year. Didn't Jean said -"
"- Well, Jean went back on her damn word. Don't know what's wrong with that girl, it isn't like her dad cheated or whatever the f- "
"-Ya'll know I'm not paying for anyone of you stand outside and let the damn cold in?" Jeffrey barked.
"Aye, aye boss!" Marga sighed. "We're out for a rough Christmas, ladies. Hope ya'll spent your Christmas Eves wisely."
And just like that, I remembered Orion's soft lips touching my cheek and the leap of action made with pure instinct when I kissed him back. It wasn't even on the lips, and hardly anything more than a peck that resulted in us turning in early, stewing in the silence of what occurred.
I don't regret it, I thought as I prepared for the day, tying my apron and relieving two Orions in my head. One that kissed me last night, warm eyes and soft lips, and the other I left this morning, warm face snuggled deep into the covers and resting peacefully.
My grip on the dishcloth tightened as I stared outside, at the shining sun, warming the snow. The winter season saying goodbye. Slowly. I like him.
I like him and I don't want him to leave.
- - -
Of course, it is impossible to ask him to stay.
It wasn't just the selfish connotations the question produced, the very new and very war line we found ourselves dancing on withstanding - as it is, is/was still just two pecks on the cheeks, hardly a profound exclamation of love. But it was also that he was a werewolf. A very large prey and prize to the hunters in this town. I might as well be painting a bullseye on the back of his head. So selfish to ask him to stay, to risk his life, all for 'heart flutters'.
