Not My Fairytale

Chapter 6 - Christmas Markets

"I cannot believe you are dragging me both this early in the month and this early in the morning to go Christmas shopping," Noah groans, as I pull on his arms around the streets of the city.
Wooden stalls flood the centre, the market the whole country thinks of when someone mentions Christmas in England. Each one is decorated to the wishes of the stall owner, some draped in felt cut out to look like snow, some adorned with tiny fairy lights, and others left completely bare, allowing for the products being sold to shine out against its plain surroundings. My favourite, as it has been every year is the bar sat in the middle of the wooden village with the robotic reindeer that sings as you walk by.

Being a popular attraction the area with rammed with people even though it is yet to hit midday. Even in the bitterly icy December cold, I feel the warmth of all those bodies pressing in against my sides as we walk, joining in the flow of the river of potential customers. But the real star of the show is the food. Tables laden with delicacies worm their way amongst the arts and crafts. Anything that you can think of, lie in wait. Whole roasted pigs turning on spits. Huge platters stuffed with savoury fruit and nuts. Creatures of the sea, drizzled in sauces begging to be tasted. Countless cheeses, breads, meats, sweets, waterfalls of wine, and streams of spirits awaiting to be bought as gifts for a loved one. My favourite part of coming here is getting to try the free tasters. Noah always warns me about spoiling my lunch on eating one to many crackers spread with a new flavour of chutney, but the pit that is my stomach always manages a way to fit in the excess food.

"You know that I love Christmas," I reply, swinging his arm backwards and forwards.
"Yes, I found that fact out on the first of December, which also happens to be two days ago," He chuckles, nudging my shoulder gently. After having the same friends for so long, I guess I have gotten used to them just knowing me. As we walk past the bar right on queue the moose begins to sing.
"Would you like a drink to warm you before we continue?" Noah asks upon watching me with amusement smile and stare at the robot.
I nod my head quickly causing my bobble hat to slip over my eyes, it being designed for someone bigger than myself. The corners of Noah's mouth curl upwards as he moves the hat back into its original place.
"You really are so tiny Rowan Steele," He muses, staring at me for a second with adoration.
Thrusting my hands on my hips I attempt to make myself taller in order to prove him wrong.
"I am still big enough to take you on," I inform him, narrowing my eyes in his direction.
"And an absolute child it would seem," He laughs, shoving my hat back down over my eyes throwing me into a world of darkness again. By the time I manage to wrench the wool out of my eyes he is already being served at the bar.

Wrapping my scarf tighter around me and rearranging my leather gloves into perfect position, I regain my composure. I watch as Noah exchanges a notes for the two takeaway cups. As he passes me one he pecks me on the lips. The warmth from the liquid inside seems through giving life back to my finger tips. Prising the lid off, steam rises instantly condensing in the air. Slowly, not wanting to burn myself I take a tiny sip. It is sweet yet spicy, with pronounced notes of tangy orange, nutmeg, and a sprinkle of cinnamon. It tastes more like juice than wine, but I suppose that is the beauty of mulled wine.

"What time did we say that we would meet Liam and Hannah?" Noah asks, blowing on the top of his own drink, wanting it to cool somewhat before drinking it. We join back with the wave, having to be careful not to let people bump into us spilling our wine.
"About one-thirty at Coffee Cups," I reply, forcing myself on to my tip toes to try and see through people into the stall in front.
I spy foreign beers lining the wall, a perfect present for Leo who has an obsession with trying every beer the world provides.
Seeing me craning my neck Noah asks, "Do you want to push our way forward?"
My face screws up at the thought of having to battle my way through and I shake my head in protest.
"Sorry," Noah chuckles correcting himself, "Would you like myself to push our way through?"
I give him a guilty shrug which causes him to roll his eyes.