❝ how christmas was made ❞

[ one ] dream - december 1

So I says "My dear if you could give me a cup of tea to
clear my muddle of a head I should better understand
your affairs." And we had the tea and the affairs too. 
               --Charles Dickens in ,,Mrs. Lirriper's Legacy"

      one ✘ dream ✘ december 1 (days to christmas: 24)

This is book is everything you didn’t know you were waiting for. This book will change your life for the best and probably also the lives of the ones around you, that you love and care about.

       “Is this too thick? It sounds like I’m so sure about everything I’m writing down, it makes me sick,” Robin complained, scratching out the sentences she wrote down in the journal. She closed it, sliding her hand over the fine leather she especially picked out for an important purpose, but it wouldn’t succeed. She groaned and looked up at the barista, pleading him silently to help her.

       “Still don’t even know what’ya talkin’ ‘bout, don’t look at me like that,” he explained, holding up his hands in defence even though he did nothing wrong. Robin huffed and ripped the piece of paper out of the notebook, crumbling it up and aiming for the bin (she missed)(which only dropped her mood lower).

        “I’m talking about fucking Christmas, you ignorant prick, do you ever listen?” Her mood was stomach height now, and the situation proved to become worse.

        “What’s Christmas, ya dork, y’never even told me anythin’ ‘bout it,” he laughed. Honestly, Zeke could fuck off out of this town with his unhelpfulness. Robin glared at him, not saying her thoughts out loud because a. they were in a teashop and b. he was really her only chance of help and maybe it was just on its way.

        “Okay, listen. Okay? So, I had a dream—”

        “Interesting,” Zeke rubbed his imaginary beard and leaned on the counter, showing faux curiosity. His eyes squinted as he tried not to laugh.

        “Shut up! Jesus, this is important, okay? So just shut up and listen,” Robin ranted, slapping her hands on the counter. Zeke raised his hands again, this time with a grin that was finally freed to cover his face with disgusting happiness. Lately it was all he seemed to be: happy. Robin found it both endearing and annoying, because he refused to tell her why exactly he was that happy.

        “Okay, okay, I won’t talk, relax.”

       Robin sighed and continued, “so I had a dream. It was winter, and I was with my family and friends, sitting around the table, with delicious dinner, a bit like thanksgiving really. And we were chatting and laughing and all around us, there were these cute little lights, you know, that people put in their room to make it look tumblr?”

       Zeke nodded, obeying her earlier demand. “Yes well, they were there, and there was a tree in the corner of the house, decorated with the same lights and glittery strings and shiny balls—don’t laugh, you immature child—and when we were done eating we went over there and sat in a circle on the ground around the tree and my dad came in, in this ridiculous costume, with a white beard and all, and he had a sack of presents on his back. So everyone started handing out presents and we sing along to songs on the radio. And then Maya comes in…”

        “Oh god.”

        “And she walks me over to the door, where a mistletoe hangs in the doorframe and she whispers ‘merry Christmas’ and then she kisses me.” Robin finished off happily, smiling up at the ceiling with her head in her hand.