Christmases When You Were Mine

108 2 2
                                    

A/N: So do y'all realize just how hard it is to write Christmas chapters in the summer? It's hard.

_________________________

I am awoken by someone pressing their lips to mine. I kiss back knowing exactly who it is. I roll on top, and smirk.

She is smiling back at me. Her face glows brighter than any star.

"Merry Christmas," I say.

"Merry Christmas," Taylor replies before giving me another kiss.

"Today will be the best Christmas ever," I assure as I get up and walk to the kitchen.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her crawl out of bed, and wrap a blanket around her shoulders.

I get to the kitchen, and turn the stove on. I put a pan on top, and set out to make the best Christmas breakfast ever. I feel delicate arms wrap around me, as I look through the spice cabinet. I can't help but smile.

What Taylor doesn't know, is that everytime she touches me, my insides melt.

"Do you have to do that now?" She complaines. "I want to see you open your present!"

I turn around to face her, and wrap my arms around her waist.

"You didn't need to get me a present," I gently chide. "You're my present."

She smiles and her whole face lights up.

"And you're mine as well," she says pulling my hand up to look at the ring adorning my left hand.

She glides over to the fridge, to help me cook.

____________________

Please take down the misletoe

I woke up with a start, not wanting to relive past Christmases. It always happened, every year. I would be haunted by memories. Even ones from my childhood made me flustered. Perhaps it was because they were happy. They were all happy memories, and I didn't know how to be happy anymore. Maybe they hurt me so much, because all the happy feelings and thoughts were trying to get into me, but were being blocked by my pain. My numbness. And their efforts were hurting me. It was like trying to break a brick wall with glass.

The usual hangover pounded against my brain, the walls of my stomach. That was karma speaking; punishing me for my wrongs. Maybe all the pain I felt was just karma -- not me grieving, wishing for a better life. I was being pained by karma for my sorry excuse of being a father. For not being there when my daughter needed me. For quitting, on everyone. Maybe the karma came from the last minute Christmas gift for Taylor, hidden in my drawer.

Cause I don't wanna think about that right now

I rubbed my face with my hands, not wanting to face this day. I flipped my sheets off, and swivelled my legs out of bed. The imprint of Meredith always being there to greet me in the morning was fading, but instinctively, I still reached out to greet her. I silently cursed and rocked out of bed when no response came.

Dragging my feet, I made my way over to my bathroom to wake up some more. On this day, the usual routine consisted of a quiet morning, a gift or two being exchanged between Taylor and I, and a not so grand breakfast. Then we would go over to my sisters for Christmas dinner, where the usual Christmas activities unfolded. I stayed quiet during the night, and I'm sure Taylor did too. From there we would fly through the night to Nashville, and spend boxing day with Taylors family. It wasn't really to see her family, it was more for them to see my daughter.

UntouchableWhere stories live. Discover now