meraki.

Christmas 2018

"It will be weird." - Anna said, looking at herself in the mirror. 

It was the morning of Tuesday, December 25th - that year, in particular, Anna was experiencing it, for the first time in her life, as the early morning of Christmas. 

For some reason, she had been anticipating it a little, during the previous month. As embarrassing as it could've sounded, Anna had been daydreaming about how it would've been: her only references were Christmas scenes in movies, and even though she knew they were usually exaggerated and highly romanticized, she thought they would've been a good guide for her to draw inspiration from and know how to act. 

She had never been a fan of Christmas movies: not only they didn't speak to her, because Christmas had never been a big deal to her; they also were sappy and full of clichés and bad acting. And yet, she had spent the past month watching one a day, each night. It had been a torture, but Anna was known to fully fulfill a commitment she had made, and to do it to the very best of her abilities. 

So each night she had bid Harry goodnight, had locked herself in her room, and had spent the next two hours or so soaking up a sappy Christmas movie: Miracle on the 34th Street, The Family Stone, Surviving Christmas, A Christmas Prince, The Holiday, Christmas with the Kranks, A Christmas Carol...

The only one she had liked was A Christmas Carol (and only because it was based on a Charles Dickens novel). The rest had been an absolute torment. But she had endured them to not arrive unprepared at the dinner with Dom, his mother Gloria and whomever else might've been there. 

Now, staring at herself in the mirror, she felt a bit stupid, but she was ready to endure it all, if it meant adjusting to the Christmas traditions: white knit sweater tucked into an high-waisted tartan red and black skirt, a pair of black see-through nylons and a pair of red ankle boots. She was embarrassed to admit she had bought those clothes the previous week, only for the Christmas dinner. 

She had debated straightening her hair, just so they wouldn't have created a small cloud over her head, but then she had thought better: it would've been way too much. Make-up had never been her specialty, she only knew the basics, and when she had searched some pictures to know what she should've done, they had all seemed too much for her. So she had decided to just wear some khol and a bit of eyeshadow - she had the whole bag of make-up inside of her purse, so she could've always salvaged herself in the bathroom, had she noticed that her look wasn't good enough. 

She heard a knock coming from her door, and she turned around. 

"Anna, are you ready?" - Harry said from outside. - "Is it safe for me to come in?" 

One last look at her skirt, one last tug at the sweater so it looked flowy coming out of the skirt and she spoke. - "Yes!" - she told Harry. 

She didn't look away from the mirror as he entered the room, something bothering her in the back of her mind. After a couple of seconds of thinking, a lightbulb went on in her head. 

"Harry, do you think I should wear some kind of hat to get in the spirit?" - she asked, turning around to face him. The smile that had formed on her face quickly disappeared, as she saw how he was looking at her. The way he was dressed was what shocked her the most. 

Washed out, rolled-up boyfriend loose jeans, a loose long-sleeved white and pink striped shirt, a cloth cap and a pair of white Vans. Anna's eyes unintentionally focused on the exposed skin of Harry's chest - of course, he had left the first three buttons of the shirt unbuttoned, enough to let her catch a glimpse of his cross necklace, a bit of the heads of his sparrows tattoo and the tips of the butterfly's tattoo's antennaes. Actually, now that she thought about it, she didn't know if it was a butterfly. Could be a moth.