We're All Fighters

Better Saved For Christmas

Day Two of the Christmas thing. Enjoy. I have decided that maybe an 'every four days' thing will work better. I don't know. Maybe I'll do like a minimum of two stories a week. How do y'all feel about that?

They answered the door in an old sweater, a faded pair of jeans, and fluffy socks. A string of fairy lights were positioned in the window, occasionally spitting out various colours onto the grass. Yawning, they took a step back in surprise when they saw who was waiting for them.

He was standing awkwardly, a light blue hoodie thrown over his sandy coloured hair. His light green eyes looked around nervously, before focusing on the open door. In his hands, which were covered in freckles like the rest of his body, was a small box wrapped in brightly colored, festive wrapping paper. As if suddenly realising it was in his hands, he thrust it forward towards them. They took it, inspecting the neat wrapping. "What is it?"

His hands were fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, twirling the cord around his fingers before letting go. "It's an...um...gift?" It came out more like a question, and he bit his lip as they raised an eyebrow.

"A gift. Why? You're normally trying to kill me." They eyed it suspiciously, dragging a finger along the edge. "It's not a trap is it?" He shook his head hurriedly, his hood falling down to reveal wild curls.

"No! It's a Christmas present. And I'm not the one trying to kill you, Lex is." He spoke matter-of-factly, although he stumbled over some of his words. The nervous glances continued, and he seemed to be apprehensive about the idea of being watched. They put the gift on a side table, and crossed their arms.

"And Lex knows you're here?" The silence, and the fact that he seemed more interested in his black trainers screamed the answer. He turned around, starting down the path away from the door.

"I-- I should be going." He made to swing the gate open, one hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

"Hey, wait!" They swallowed as he turned around, a curious expression in his eyes. They smiled, a little awkwardly perhaps, but a smile nonetheless. "Merry Christmas Jack." The smile was returned, and he took his hand out of his pocket to give a two fingered salute.

"Merry Christmas Jamie." He walked away, pulling his hood back over his head. They closed the door, picking up the gift as they walked into the kitchen to make themselves a sandwich. They thought about opening it, then decided not to after glancing at the calendar on the wall.

Some things were better when saved for Christmas, even if it was a couple of days away.

Published 20:47 GMT, 4/12/2019