Shark Bait [H.S.]

Chapter Twenty-One.

Mild weather, lit towns, and excitement all build up the holiday season in Portugal. Though it's not something I understand the hype for completely, mum absolutely loves it and I'll do whatever it takes to see her smiling her soft, warm smile at me.

Christmas with my mum is something I'll never take for granted. The entire house smells of Bolo Rei and Sonhos – both of which are things Zayn's about to try for the very first time. Actually, he's about to try every single Christmas dessert my mum could afford to buy the ingredients for.

She wanted to make this the most memorable and special Christmas for him and seeing her excitement for all the things she has planned has definitely sparked a little bit of excitement in me too.

As we neared closer and closer to the 24th, my mum sent me on a mission to secretly uncover what type of Christmas celebrations Zayn has had, if he's even had any. She cried when I told her what I'd found out.

Zayn has never had a proper Christmas celebration, or if he has, he was too young to remember now. "Filhós? Rabanadas? Aletria?" I asked him, only to get a quizzical look in return. Zayn had no idea what I was talking about.

It seemed as if these were all things he's never experienced and it made my stomach churn in a way I didn't understand. How could someone not have ever tasted the luxury of these desserts? It didn't make any sense to me because those are things I'm always used to around this time of year. They're things that mum always makes sure we have, or at least tries to.

I had a hard time initially wrapping my head around it. Mum had to sit me down and explain what a blessing it was that I got to experience such things, even though we ourselves have less than others.

Even though I knew Zayn was homeless, I never understood why that meant he couldn't celebrate Christmas, even by himself. It was only after our talk that I finally understood the gravity of homelessness and how much it could affect someone.

I have never felt more grateful since then.

So now here we are, gathered around the table with ample desserts placed in front of Zayn as mum and I eagerly watch on. She's standing behind me, arms locked around my chest and her cheek pressed against the top of my head. I let her do it because I know that soon enough I'll be taller than her and she won't get to coddle me like she loves to do.

Little does she know that I'll always sit in smaller chairs just for her to do that to me all the time. I love it just as much as her, maybe even more.

I tried to describe the desserts to Zayn, getting ahead of myself as the smell wafted through the house and he only stared at me with what looked like humour and amusement at my excitement. It's when mum finally started placing the plates down that I saw what looked like both happiness and hunger on his face.