TO FEEL AGAIN [A Christmas Special]

Chapter 4: This Feels Good

Merry Christmas to You (of any race, body shape, gender identity, religion and just whoever you are) and Harry x

The morning of Christmas is wet and gloomy, not white and icy as you had expected but there's really nothing to expect from this city.

You position yourself next to the window as you video call your hyped parents.

They are basically glowing and looking well rested, dressed up in casual holiday shirts and you're here nestled in a super warm knee length orange sweater dress with a high neck that's protecting you from the bitter winter.

Your mother has her hair properly styled for the day and she's holding a flute of champagne whilst your father is holding a bowl of seafood and generously squeezing half a lemon all over it.

Safe to say, they're having the holiday of their dreams and you're itching to join them for the new year.

"The book came in and I couldn't believe it," your father continues.

"He really wanted to call to confirm but I told him to be patient," your mother laughs.

"You know I hate waiting to open presents," he complains.

"I have the same trait," you cannot help but smile.

"You're smiling an awful lot baby girl," she quips, enjoying her drink.

"I guess I'm in a good mood," you retort, not ready to spill anything yet.

A hand comes from behind and gives you a mug of hot cocoa, and you watch my parents grow curious when they see a white hand that heavily contrasts Salma's brown hands, and you fight back a laugh.

"That's not Sally," Mum says.

Your parents whisper a few things to themselves and you can hear your father struggle to contain his excitement.

"Your mother wants to know if that's a man," he giggles.

"It's not a man's hand, for sure," you smile.

"Are you going to tell us or tease us then?" she's already impatient.

"Don't mind this little one," Stevie pops up from behind, holding her own mug.

"Jesus Christ!"

If a child who always had doubts of Santa's existence came face to face with that fat bearded man, that child would look exactly like your mother is staring at Stevie.

She nearly spills her crystal drink on her white lace blouse and adjusts herself; she double checks her makeup with the help of your father and fights back her very loud squeaks.

"You're okay babe," your father says to her.

"I cannot be bloody okay, that's Stevie, right?" she is panicking.

"It is she," Stevie chuckles, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Stevie is touching the shoulder of a child that was in my womb," she's telling your father and is almost shaking.

"Your womb carried an amazing person," Stevie is amused.

"Oh my goodness, Stevie, I love you,"your mother is staring at her with gold dust in her eyes.

"Mum, please breathe," you manage to say.

"Why didn't you warn me?!" she asks, harshly.

"I didn't know you were such a fangirl," you giggle.

"Where do you think you got it from?" she manages to smile.

"Happy Christmas, we hope you love the gift," Stevie talks like she's used to this.