[ LOCKLYLE ] kiss me on christmas <3

as they were

24th of december <3

i physically cringed as holly explained to us all that we had to dress well for the little christmas party she was throwing in 35 portland row.

christmas always feels weird for me, especially now that i'm actually celebrating it with a loving family.

my mother never like christmas. she would say it's only about marketing and money- we weren't exactly well-off.

christmas day was always simply a normal day for us. me and my sisters would work around the house and finish our usual chores and earn our fill one way or other for mother.

we never celebrated christmas as a family.

i do remember myself and mary exchanging dairy milk bars that we'd bought using mary's secret stash of saved up money.

we'd drink mugs of boiling hot tea together in a secret silence late at night, dipping the chocolate in the tea so that it was melty in our mouths. that was my christmas.

i miss mary.

norrie would give me little trinkets like cheap jewellery such as silver rings, pearl necklaces and gold tarnished bracelets she'd steal from her nasty old nan.

i was going to give norrie one of mother's scarfs that frayed at the ends one christmas, but the sun didn't set that day before she noticed it missing and roared about who had stolen her stupid scarf.

you can imagine i put it right back where i found it the next time she left the house.

norrie had given me a bar of dairy milk one year but i couldn't bring myself to take it.

dairy milk bars were me and mary's thing.

oh, the things i'd do to see norrie again.

"off to the shops you go then, lucy!" holly said before i could convince her otherwise, smiling her perfect smile.

ugh, i should steal her toothpaste so her teeth don't shine so pretty perfectly all the time.

holly really pisses me off sometimes.

"do i have tooo?" i groaned.

dress-shopping isn't exactly my favourite hobby.

"of course! now off you go," she ushered as george tagged along.

"right. bye holly, bye lockwood,"

to no surprise whatsoever, i didn't get so much as a nod from lockwood, who was sitting at the kitchen table, engrossed in newspaper articles and details of a silly case.

"aw thanks, lockwood. appreciate the pure emotion," i stated sarcastically, before shutting the door with a purposeful bang, exposing myself to the freezing winter-air.

***

i felt a burning embarrassment while exploring a nearby clothes shop with none other than george cubbins of all people.

i don't have a clue what i'm doing, and, judging by other shoppers' expressions, people know it too.

i mean it's not as if i'm making any effort to hide the fact.

i longed for someone to come with me that can actually help but holly was too busy decorating our home, kipps supposedly had something or other that he had to do, and there wasn't a chance i'd go with that flo one.

she's grand, i suppose, but her taste in fashion is rank.

well, i guess i can't say much.

the next best thing i have in the field of fashion is george cubbins, and that lad, for starters, doesn't wear trousers unless we have a client or a case.