A Wish between Snowflakes

Falling wishes

Christmas came softly that year — with deadlines, silence, and a wish Elena hadn't said out loud.

Elena rinsed her face with cold water, droplets splashing against the mirror.
She stared at her ocean eyes, dark eye bags framing them for a moment too long.

Days blurred into nights —fingers clicking endlessly on her keyboard, trying to finish the series she had been working on.

I don't like the final scene. It feels forced. I can't feel the emotions of the characters.

Her publisher's hoarse voice replayed in her head.
Deadlines. Expectations.

She had been given just a week to enjoy the Christmas holiday.

She dragged herself out of the bathroom, fixed something quick to eat, then stepped outside to breathe in the cold air.

She needed space.
She needed something.

Soon, she found herself strolling through her neighborhood — aimless, hopeful.

Searching for a spark.
An idea.
Anything.

Couples passed by, hands intertwined. Children laughed, building snowmen.
Loneliness settled quietly in her chest.

She had spent so much time creating happiness for fictional characters that she had forgotten how to create hers.

A few failed blind dates later, she had given up on love — at least for now.

She loved her job. She loved her solitude.
Still... sometimes, longing arrived unannounced.

Elena sat on a bench beside a stranger watching children build snowmen.
She sighed, biting the dry skin of her lips, smiling faintly at the fluttering kids nearby.

"I loved making angels in the snow," he chuckled.

His voice was soft—deep—filling the small space between them.

Elena startled, meeting his warm brown eyes.

"You can still make gigantic ones," she sniggered, the image amusing her.

He smiled and turned back to the snowmen.

"What do you want for Christmas?" he asked softly, breaking the silence.

She paused.
What did she want?

"I think..." she smiled faintly.
"Some alone time. Wine. Movies. Rest."

They sat quietly after that.
A cold breeze passed, and Elena sneezed.

"Should've worn more layers," she muttered, standing up.

He looked at her, eyes full of questions.

"I'm heading this way..." She murmured.

"Can I walk with you... for a bit?" he asked.

Elena paused, fingers curling into her sweater.
Then she nodded, a small yes she hadn't planned to give.

They walked in comfortable silence. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

After watching her for a moment, he slipped off his black coat and draped it over her shoulders.

Elena froze.

"You don't have to," she whispered, cheeks warming.

"I wore more layers," he chuckled, dismissing her protest.

She smiled, letting the moment linger .

"What about you?" she asked. "What do you want for Christmas?"

He studied her tired eyes, the loose strands of hair brushing her face —the way she played with her mouth when she grew cautious.

He wished to see her again.
To know her beyond this fleeting moment.

"Should I make a wish?" he asked instead.

"If Santa or a genie existed?" she teased.

Afterwards, they walked together until the street grew quieter, until her building came into view.

"Here we are," Elena said, handing him his coat.
"Thank you... for today."

---

Snow fell, and days slipped by quietly —Solo dates, long walks, silence.

Her phone buzzed with Christmas wishes.

"My Elena, why didn't you visit this time?" her grandmother asked.

"She's a workaholic," her sister-in-law's voice chimed in the background.

Elena smiled. She knew the routine.

"I want to see my grandchildren before I leave this world," her grandmother always said.

"You're not going anywhere, Gran-gran," Elena replied every time.

Later that evening, as she reached for a snack and pressed play on her movie, the doorbell rang.

Ding dong!

Elena stared at the door for a moment, heart skipping without reason.
She wasn't expecting anyone.

Dragging her feet across the floor, she wondered briefly who would visit on Christmas evening.

She opened the door slowly.

It was him.

A familiar stranger.

"I've been debating this," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"What to bring... how not to look like a creep showing up like this."

He lifted two bottles of red wine.

"You asked what I wanted for Christmas," he smiled.
"I wished to see you again."

"Merry Christmas."

Elena stared at him for a second longer than necessary.
The cold no longer bothered her -only the strange warmth spreading through her chest.

She studied his face — the nervous smile, the way he stood like he wasn't sure he belonged there.

Her guarded expression softened, lips curving slowly, as if she were still deciding something.

This was unexpected.
Unplanned.
And yet... it felt right.

She smiled, then laughed softly, stepping aside.

"Come in"

They spent the evening curled up on the couch —wine, laughter, Home Alone playing softly.

When it was time to leave, she walked him to the door.

"See you again?" he asked.

"Elena," she replied, smiling softly.

He chuckled. "Leo."

A soft, awkward laugh passed between them.

As the door closed, Elena giggled and rushed back to her keyboard.

She finally knew how her story would end.
Not with a perfect plot, but with a wish answered between falling snowflakes.

The End ✨

Merry Christmas, my lovely readers 🤍
This story came from a simple thought -
maybe magic isn't something we wait for, but something we create.

Thank you for spending a quiet moment between snowflakes with me.