Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shots

A Christmas Miracle

(Listen to O Holy Night by: Tommee Profitt, Tauren Wells and SVRCINA while you read this one. This cover is breathtaking in every possible way and the unexpected build in this classic Christmas song, drives the emotions in this piece!)

Snowflakes froze against the windowpane as though twinkling fragments of glass. Their fragility made their presence that much more breathtaking, as they delicately lined the frosted glass in perfectly crafted flakes. Each of their finely made edges uniquely their own, as neither was quite alike as another. It was beautiful, to see such mesmerizing perfection in something that was so purposefully imperfect. For the differences in each tiny twinkling flake, was what made their beauty shine. It wasn't found in being the same as all of the rest, there was beauty in the fact that each and every flake that fluttered down from the heavens above, was created to be it's own special little snowflake.

The light of the flickering fire that burned warmly in the cobblestone designed fireplace, illuminated against the window's frosted glass. For it lent a specific hue to the living room, an orangish shade that bathed the soft carpet and the pale white walls in a warming light. It immersed the room in it's light that exuded from it's dancing flames. Night settled in a blanket of darkness on the other side of the frozen front window. The entirety of the Christmas Day having come and gone yet another year in a row, with only the last dwindling hours left to it's name. But even with the darkness that engulfed the world and signaled for the day to come to an end, the twinkling fluorescent light of the tall Christmas tree continued to glow within the walls that casted the night out. The living room was immersed in the light of the burning fire, but it came alive with the glittering of little red and green twinkle lights, that wrapped themselves around the mantel above the fireplace. The day faded with the sun as a content stillness settled over the snowy Earth, but the living room sang with the magic that emanated from the little crystal bulbs beaming from the decorated Christmas tree.

The deep evergreen stood artificial but with every feeling of a true pine, with it's branches full and graced with the job of safely balancing the tiny glittery ornaments upon them. It's little white lights intertwined with it's branches, as their glow bounced against the reflective trinkets that softly twirled against the tree. Capturing the light with a mesmerizing twinkle, that made the tree look as though it was alive with it's own sense of happiness.

You could never be able to deny the beauty that emanated from every crevice of the house, for it was so overwhelming in it's warmth, that it demanded to be felt. You couldn't keep the soft smiles from beaming across your lips throughout the joyful day, or even the happy pierce of tears in your eyes at the lyric of a softly hummed Christmas hymn or the sight of the breathtaking lights that made the room feel more alive than it had in years. There would forever be a magical effect of Christmas, bringing forth a lighthearted flutter and swell of happiness in the littlest of moments. But even as the feelings of the holiday season touched upon your heart, it would never be able to fill the hole that lingered inside. The warmth could never conceal the chill that shuddered through, the sentiment of the holiday could never soothe away the ache. As hard as it tried to fill the void, Christmas Day would always be missing one thing.

Your fingers slid up the cord as it unplugged the Christmas tree for the night, watching as the branches went dark and the corner of the room seemly became dormant for the night. Moving towards the mantel, as your fingers inched towards the next light strand to be unplugged for the night, you found yourself pausing as your eyes fell upon a picture frame stood against the polished wood. You could feel the warmth from the fire soaking up through your body, as your toes softly curled into the carpet closest to it but your fingers felt cold as they hesitantly reached towards the small silver frame. It wasn't one you picked up often, as it would always sit with purpose at the highest shelf, but your heart couldn't bare to hold it much closer. But tonight, in the lasting glow of the crackling flames and the last of the brightly glowing Christmas lights, your fingers gently trailed against the photograph.