Still In Bloom ↠ Twilight ✓

41 ; ribcage

[please read the author's note at the end, thank you!]

Here's the thing: Ever since Wallace was ten, the Christmas season has held a certain negative stigma to it.

Maybe it was the way his mother's presence had always been the most jubilant during the holidays and in the years after her death, the Christmas tree had remained in the attic. Shelby hadn't wanted to touch it, Wallace hadn't been able to and Daniel hadn't been around to even think about it.

But it's in these moments that Wallace appreciates the Cullen's the most. His eyes, a rich golden color now, scan the area of the Cullen's first-floor living room. A huge tree, real and no doubt cut down from the forest somewhere on the Cullen's land, is perched in front of the glass windows. Its arms stick out beautifully, much like all the Hallmark movies Wallace had watched tucked into Shelby's side during the holiday season, sipping hot cocoa from old chipped mugs.

On his lap, Veran sits patiently waiting for his aunts and uncles to finish pushing out the limbs of the tree in order for him to help them decorate. He's wiggly, which is normal, but he's more wiggly than necessary as Wallace bops him up and down on his knees to a Panic! At The Disco song.

"I don't think I ever celebrated Christmas growing up," Bella states from beside Wallace, tucked into his side with their arms interlocked together. She's absentmindedly playing with the toes of Veran's foot as she speaks. "Renee was always busy doing something or other with Phil and I was never into trying to separate her from him."

Wallace feels a frown work onto his face then states. "I never celebrated either. Christmas stopped being about family whenever I was ten,"

Bella looks at him then, her eyes gentle. "I guess you did have it worse than me,"

"Not worse," Wallace replies seriously, and then he grins at her with amusement. "But I'll take the win."

A slap is directed onto his arm, like it always is whenever Bella's amused but doesn't want to admit it, and that's when Esme's voice speaks. "Wallace, Veran can help with the tree now,"

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Veran is wiggling from Wallace's lap like an overcooked noodle. Tiny feet barely hitting the floor before he's rushing towards Esme, hands outstretched for the sparkling ornaments Esme holds out of his grip as she warns him to be gentle.

"Wall," Bella's voice is a whisper, and it makes him turn his attention away from their son towards the brunette. Once his eyes are on her, Bella's lips uptick in a faint fashion, "With Veran occupied, Edward and I wanted to show you something. Just the three of us, together."

Wallace, if he were still capable, knows that his heart would've begun to beat harder in his chest at the words but since he was unable, he wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Another slap was directed at his arm but Wallace caught it, holding Bella's wrist for a few moments before giving it a playful squeeze. Bella met his eyes, heat palpable there, but then replied, "Just move your ass,"

Doing as told, Wallace followed Bella from the living room and towards the back door of the house. Bella, despite leading him, walked at his side, footsteps light in the crisp snow. It was freshly fallen, but it was more of a powder so it hadn't been up to Veran's standard to play in. After all, Esme had promised him something shiny to play with instead so it wasn't as if Veran was really upset about the loss.

At the home, Veran caught Edward's scent from deep in the expanse of their home. And there was something, maybe it could be considered primal, that made Wallace's nostrils flare with approval. The predator in Wallace noting that Edward's scent was that of a mate, not a threat.