Hope's First Christmas

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Five minutes before the end of your work day, a soft knock sounded on your door. You sighed, releasing the stack of papers in your hands. It settled back onto your desk with a fluttering whisper. "Come in," you called.

The door creaked open, revealing a silver-topped head.

"_________. Is that report coming along all right?" Hope Estheim, your friend and coworker, closed the door and strode in. He, too, looked bundled up and ready to leave.

"Hi, Hope. Yeah. I've got it here. Wanna see?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine," he replied.

"You think so?"

"Everyone does. A lot of people commend your writing, and for good reason. It has a sense of crispness to it. Of vitality and...confidence." He stopped, clearing his throat with a gentle smile. "Sorry, I know that's cheesy."

"Maybe, but I could use some cheesy today." You settled back in your chair. "So where're you headed tonight? Got an early Christmas party?"

He straightened up, setting a small glass dog back on your shelf. "Beg pardon?"

"Christmas party. Y'know, egg nog, cookies, carols, mistletoe..." You blushed and stopped. You hoped he was too far away to notice.

But instead, he focused more on you. "I...what? A what party?"

It clicked. "Have...you've never had a Christmas?"

"No. I take it it's a holiday? We had those back on the old world, each one a little different." He grinned at you. "But in case you've forgotten, I haven't exactly been on Earth long."

Last month, Hope told you his bizarre story over coffee, sprinkled with words that you couldn't spell and ones that seemed to mean very different things: l'Cie, fal'Cie, crystals, Cocoon, Pulse, and Focus were just a few of the terms tossed out as casually as if he was sharing a recipe. It was a great fairy tale, you thought, until he brought up the second part of his story involving "chaos" and "Bhunivelze." How many years were you all trapped? you had gasped. He smiled pensively, stared down at his coffee, and murmured, You wouldn't believe me if I told you. He was right, at least at first. "That's right. You told me you came here around September."

"Yeah. Is Christmas only a certain time of the year?" His eyes glimmered eagerly, making your heart leap.

"Y-yeah, it's on December 25th. But around here, people start getting ready for it up to two months in advance."

"Two months?" Hope's eyes widened.

"It's not an official thing. But other stuff gets overshadowed because of it." Pulling some hair behind your ear, you gathered the report papers and filed them away. "There are other holidays, too, like Halloween and Thanksgiving. But everyone's always so eager to beat the Christmas 'rush' that they start shopping way too early. And the stores know this and cater to it. Halloween stuff gets stocked in August, and Thanksgiving gets glossed over altogether."

"You sound unhappy."

You shrugged and pulled on your coat. "It just doesn't feel like a holiday when people care more about getting 20% off of TVs than eating Thanksgiving dinner with their families."

"Is that...really?" Hope held the door for you as you grabbed your keys. "People do that?"

"I know, right?"

"What's Christmas supposed to be about, then?"

"Family," you answered immediately. "Friends. Showing the people in your life how much you care about them. At least, that's how I—" An idea came to you, an idea so enticing that it stopped you in your stride.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Dec 30, 2015 ⏰

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