Rewrite the Stars (bxb)

Epilogue

I didn't get all that much sleep last night. I know it's probably not going to happen, but this is my first Christmas with them, and I'm worried it might turn out like Christmas with my parents. It's been months since I started living here full time, and I've never been happier. It's just— maybe Christmas is different. I don't know how they do things or what they expect.

I'm a little nervous.

That's why I set my alarm for eight this morning—in case they want me up really early. With my parents, if I didn't wake up early enough, my brothers would go through my stocking. I always hated that, so I always woke up early, and I figured I would do the same here just in case.

That is ruined, though, when I roll over and see that the clock says ten. My alarm never went off. I quickly sit up in bed and look over at Peter. He's still sleeping, so I calm down a bit. If they did something, Peter would've been up. But since he's not, that means I think I'm okay.

I flop back down on the bed, waiting for my heart to stop racing so much. As soon as it calms down enough, I slip out of bed and roll into Peter's. He has his heating blanket on, and it feels so nice.

He turns, still sleeping, and cuddles up to me.

I put my face close to his and close my eyes. I don't know what time it is when I'm awoken by Peter.

He grins down at me. "Merry Christmas," he says.

I yawn. "Merry Christmas," I say back.

He jumps out of bed. "Let's go. Orion always makes waffles for Christmas morning, and I want some." He goes into the bathroom.

I just pull the heating blanket up to my chin and close my eyes. I am so tired.

Peter shakes me. "C'mon!"

I smile and finally get out of bed, throwing on a hoodie, and following Peter downstairs.

All of us decorated the house a couple weeks ago. It looks like Christmas threw up all over the house. We have the tree in the den, decorated with ornaments, ribbon, and an angel on top with Peter's face glued on it. The presents spill out below it.

Wreaths decorate the doors and windows, and we have stockings hanging from the fireplace in the den. For some reason, Peter built a train track around the tree, so we have a train running around at all times. The couch is also decorated with red and green pillows and blankets. There are Christmas lights strewn in random places around the rooms and candles of all different winter scents in each room.

I had the most fun decorating with everyone. Mom never let us help decorate or even choose any of the decorations. She's an aesthetic guru, so everything has to match and be perfect in its perfect position. I never liked it that way because it always felt stiff. I never felt like I could touch or move anything without her being mad at me. That's the exact opposite feeling Christmas should bring.

Christmas doesn't have to be perfect for it to be good. Our decorations are nowhere near matching any kind of aesthetic, but it somehow all fits together.

It's like all of us. We're so different and yet, we fit together.

I walk into the kitchen but stop when Jax leans down to kiss me. Surprised, I stare at him.

He grins and points up.

I look up and see mistletoe taped to the ceiling. "Who's idea is this?" I ask, already knowing it's going to cause so much chaos.

"I have no idea," Jax says, but he's much too smug to not know.

The door to the garage slams closed, and the mistletoe sinks to the ground.