What age did your parents give you the talk?
You know THE talk? About Santa not being real?
It seems easy right?
But what if I told you, Santa existed?
And what if I told you he was a young, hot and unapologetically prideful man.
Well, come on in...
I came into the cozy room and see Wynter scooted near the warmth of the fire, hugging her knees as she watched the flames, hypnotized by the soft tendrils blaring warmth amongst each spark. The warming colors of the fire were peaceful, comfortably pacifying her thoughts. I knew the death of her parents was something she couldn't gain closure with just yet.
I came behind her and held a cup of cocoa in front of her face.
"Hot chocolate?" She looked at the treat, surprised by its appearance but still took it from my hands.
"I told you I had the perfect thing" I bragged, taking a seat next to her. She nodded before blowing at the rim and sipping it delicately.
"Mmm" she nodded looking over at me again. "Delicious"
I smirked, taking a sip of my own. "It's made from the delicate hairs of the elves"
She snapped her head and stopped her consumption, curious to see if I was teasing her.
"Say sike Nicholas" she pouted, hovering the mug in the air. I smirked and only shrugged, letting her imagination run her wild.
She let out a lazy chuckle before sipping again. "It tastes too good to be paranoid" she cursed, taking another big gulp. A sly grin appeared on my own face before a took another sip of my treat. I guess she had caught onto my banter.
She pulled her long jacket around her shoulders, scooting a bit closer to the fire. Her thick eyebrows furrowed with worry as she looked into the sparks of each flame. I knew she was still shaken by the nightmare. I still remember the night she had summoned for me, wishing she could see the outcome of a world where her parents were still alive.
I wanted to say something to comfort her, but couldn't find the words to say? I just wanted her to feel better?
"Wynter.. look...I'm..." My voice trailed off, as I looked down at my mug. She looked over at me and nodded, gently pushing the coca to her lips again.
"I always have those nightmares...no big deal. I guess you were the first person who happened to hear them"
I nodded, lifting my mug to my lips. "You have them every night?"
"Only every now and then. I usually get them closer to the end of the month. Maybe 3 days out of the month?" She sighed and looked toward the fire. We sat in silence allowing the atmosphere of seriousness cloth our conversation.
—- Like 30 minutes later?
Wynter's vibrant laughs echoed across the room as she laid by the fire. She was now turned to me, her stomach pressed to the soft white carpet that dressed the middle of the room. Her legs were kicked to the air while her head rested against a lazy palm. Her piercing brown eyes were glued onto mine, hanging on my every word as she watched me.
She looked like a vision as the flames danced around her outline. Like a gentle vision come to life.
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