No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Five

"You do?"

I nod. "It usually just sits outside my building. I'm a terrible driver," I joke, shaking my head. "I'm fine."

"Alright."

I sit up. "Well, um, you know, thank you for calling."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas."

"Not yet, it isn't."

"Two minutes past, actually."

I look at the clock. He's right. It's Christmas. I close my eyes, finding myself wondering if he called near midnight for a purpose.

"Merry Christmas, Scarlett."

I nod even though he can't see me. "Merry Christmas."

***

My eyes open slowly to a dim room. Against my white sheets are shadows of the falling snow behind my window. The apartment is snuggly warm, the heat on full blast to keep the chill out.

I sit up, glancing around tiredly.

It's Christmas.

I let myself fall back into the covers.

***

I step into the living room, freshly showered and walk towards my kitchen to make coffee. The brew makes my otherwise lifeless home smell comforting. With the steaming cup in my hand, I gravitate towards the window, intent on watching the snow fall.

That will be my tradition this year.

I'll watch the snow fall.

I sit on the ledge, leaning my head back into the wood.

One of the reasons I can't stand this day are the memories that arise.

The ones of my father throwing our tree out into the snow.

The ones of my mother watching him destroy the gifts she had just finished wrapping...

"I got you something," Mom whispers, sitting at the edge of my bed. Her eyes are red from crying but she smiles anyway.

"I thought he ruined them all—" I whisper back.

She shakes her head. "I had this one hidden."

My eyes are wide. "Did you know he was going to-?"

"I had a feeling. Work is bad..." is all she says before she gestures to the gift again. "Come on, open it."

I tear the wrapping, finding a copy of Great Expectations. My smile is wide.

"I love it."

"It's one of my favorites. My mom gave it to me too."

I lean forward, hugging her tightly. I feel her cringe slightly from the pain of his inflictions, but her embrace eventually becomes just as tight as my own.

I tear myself away from the memory, my eyes full of water as my gaze flickers to my copy of Great Expectations sitting on the table, tattered and broken. I've read it too many times to count.

The longer I stare at the book, the more I feel surrounded, confined in this place. I look around, sighing as the tears roll swiftly down my cheeks.

I'm going to go for that walk. Hell, maybe I'll even make some hot chocolate later. I stand, wiping my eyes as I walk towards the door where my coat is hanging on the rack.

I get it on over my pajamas and stuff my feet into boots. As soon as I've wrapped my neck up in a scarf, I open the door, exiting into the hallway. It's so quiet. I get downstairs, pleased to find that Rog is nowhere in sight, glad he's with his family today. There's a younger man at the desk. He nods as I pass by.

"Merry Christmas."

I nod uncomfortably. "Yeah, you too."

I pull open the door, confronted with harsh winds and cold specks of snow. It's glorious. My feet crunch against the snow, which is ankle deep. There are no foot tracks but my own. The roads are deserted.

I walk out into the street, looking up at the windows.

Vaguely, I hear Christmas music. Judy Garland.

I breathe out, seeing my own breath.

It's only today, Scarlett.

The hardest day of the year.

You've never let it bother you this much. Why start now?

Why?

I let my feet drag in the fluffy snow, watching it bunch up around my feet and onto my clothing. I don't even care. I spin slowly, intent on spending my day with this snow.

There's a wailing siren nearby, reminding me I'm in the city, but just like that, it's gone and Judy Garland is crooning again. I smile to myself, somewhere between contentment and heartbreak.

I wonder what Carlos is doing with his family, what Giovanni and Norman are doing. Even Dixon. I wonder what the snapshot of this moment to them would look like. I wonder what the snapshot of mine would look like.

I tilt my face up to the sky, letting the snow caress my face as it falls.

I stay like that until my face becomes frozen. Looking down, wiping my skin with my frozen hands, I turn, stepping again, enjoying the crunching sounds my boots make.

It's then I see a person at the end of the street, crossing through the snow.

I chuckle to myself. I must look pretty crazy.

I dare another glance as the man gets closer and freeze once I realize who it is.

He seems to realize who is standing in the middle of the street, gawking his way as well. There is a brown bag in his hand, a bag hanging from his shoulder.

Giovanni walks my way, trenching through the snow. He's wearing a black coat, a beanie of the same color concealing most of his signature curls. There are only a few on display, curling against his neck. His cheeks, his nose are red... as are mine I reckon.

The closer he gets, the larger my heart swells.

The closer he gets, the inevitability of more tears becomes not probable but factual. Even in this cold, my lips tremble, my eyes shaking with fear as he stops right in front of me, not saying a word.

I gaze up at him, unable to believe he's actually here.

Unable to believe he would fly here for me.

My throat burns as I struggle with myself.

God damn it, I'm going to fucking cry. Right here. I know it.

The minute I see his mouth curve upwards, his dark eyes gentle and knowing, I betray myself.

"I..." I gasp, turning fast, my eyes wide as I hear my chest crush with a sob. I cover my mouth, shaking my head. No.

"Scarlett," he whispers. I feel his hand rest on my shoulder. I turn, still gawking at him. His eyes squint smaller in sadness the longer he looks at me without either of us speaking.

"Scarlett."

With his free hand, he reaches out, grasping my cheek lightly. I choke on my tears as I stumble towards him in the thick snow. His hand cradles my head as I stretch up to kiss his lips. My mouth is shaking and weak, but he holds me in place, pressing soft kisses to my lips, my cheek, my brow.

"You're here," I breathe, my eyes closed.

My fingers curl around his coat, his warmth seeping through his clothing onto my own.

I open my eyes, immediately finding his.

And I can't breathe.

I can't think.

Well, about anything but one thing.

I love this man.