I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Merry Belated Christmas, Kira!

Hi, BFF! 
OoF! I'm happy to tell you that I have finally finished your secret Christmas present;) This is it! You see, you've been complaining lots that there is no fanfiction whatsoever for this ship out there... I am here to fix that :D! I also happen to know that you're an angst addict, so... don't say I didn't warn ya! 

Although I barely finished it in time and my angst writing is rusty, I decided to post it on New Year's Eve, so it's not necessarily a late present, technically... It's unedited and raw, but I promise I did my best! I worked very hard on it, so I really hope you like it!

In conclusion, here is your present, Kira: one that you did not ask for, nor does your soul necessarily need, but you're getting it anyway!

Without further ado, let me present to you... A Sandart Christmas One-Shot!

---DISCLAIMER:---

This story is simply a fanfiction. 
It is not based on actual events that happened, nor are these two YouTubers actually dating
(unless you're a shipper, ofc, then, you believe what you gotta believe, hun ;)).
This is greatly exaggerated for the sake of high angst percentage and your (and my best friend's) enjoyment. 
This isn't meant to be serious or reflecting off of Jon and Thomas's real lives.
It's just for fun:)! So, please, remember that when you're reading it. 

---Thank you.---

P.S.: I'm sorry if this kinda breaks you... not my intention?

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ding!

Thomas Sanders' doorbell rang, emitting a lasting echo all around the house. It seemed to chur the walls as well as Thomas's ribcage, seeing as his heart did a leap and his heartbeat quickened.

He had been waiting for this moment for weeks, if not months, even. The last 24 Hours were pure, brutal torture for him; Thomas had been pacing for hours on end, restlessly, muttering to himself in anxiety.

He went back n forth, making the floorboards moan; first, in his bedroom, then down the stairs, then in his living room, in his kitchen, and even in the garage and out in the street he lives on (he'd dare say that wasn't the weirdest thing his neighbors witnessed him doing, and he would be absolutely, sadly right).

But, now that that sweet sound rattled the house and finally reached Thomas's ears, he halted, both uncontrollable fear and excitement filling up his esophagus.

"Now is not the time, Virgil!" Thomas gnarled, turning to the figure next to him... that had the exact same hair, face, and body as Thomas. Except for maybe the dark mascara smudged under his eyes and the forever-sour expression.

Virgil, Thomas's anxiety, crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, there won't be a better time, Thomas. I know you hate me - fine. I know you want me out of your life... But just this once, you had to admit that I'm right. There is no way," Virgil accented, "that this isn't going to go wrong."

Before Thomas had the chance to reply, another figure appeared next to him with a 'pop!'. This one, although, once more, looked just like Thomas, had a pair of wonky glasses on, wearing a blue polo shirt, paired up with a cat onesie wrapped around his shoulders, and a joyful, ceaseless smile fixated on his lips.