The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.
What a load of bullshit. All Christmas does is set you up for disappointment. You get your hopes up only to have them crash and burn. Everyone is always so cheerful over the holidays. I just didn't get it.
I walked into Family Video, saw all the decorations, and instantly wanted to hide under a rock.
"Well don't you look cheery," Robin laughed when she returned to the counter with a box of movies.
"I hate the cold," I mumbled as I walked past her. Once I got to the employee's lounge, I took off my jacket. I pulled on my vest as the door opened.
"There you are," Steve said as I turned around. "Robin said you were here."
"Yep," I sighed. "Yay. Another glorious day at Family Video."
"I see you're still on your Christmas-hating binge, Scrooge."
"I thought you of all people would understand," I mumbled.
I started to walk away but he grabbed my hand, stopping me. "Hey," he whispered. "I do understand, Y/N. I know the holidays are hard for you. I'm just trying to fix. . ."
"Fix what?" I asked. "Me?"
"No," Steve said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that, Y/N."
"Then what did you mean?" I asked, my breath getting caught in my throat. "What did you want to fix, Steve?"
Steve grabbed both my hands and pulled me into his chest. "I don't want to fix you," he whispered. "You're my best friend, Y/N. I think you're perfect just the way you are. What I wanted to fix was the effect this holiday has on you. I hate seeing you so depressed. I wish I could make it better."
I slowly pulled my hands out of his, instantly wrapping my arms around myself. I cleared my throat and shook my head.
"You can't," I said under my breath.
"I wish," he sighed. "I wish I could bring your mom back, Y/N."
"No one can bring my mom back."
* * * * *
Steve and I worked our shifts, not really speaking to each other. I tried to let work distract me but it was hard since everyone was renting Christmas movies. Steve seemed in his head all afternoon. It wasn't until I was on my break did I understand why.
"You okay?" Robin asked Steve. "You've been in your head a lot today."
"Just thinking about Y/N."
"Aren't you always?" She teased. She suddenly cleared her throat. "Look, I know the month of December isn't exactly easy on her, but she's a big girl. She can. . ."
"Y/N's mom passed away on Christmas Eve," Steve cut her off.
"What?"
"Y/N was spending the days leading up to Christmas with her grandparents," Steve started to explain. "Her parents were on the way when they slipped on black ice. Her parents were both sent to the hospital. Her dad woke up. . . Her mom didn't."
"Damn," Robin sighed. "No wonder she hates Christmas."
"It didn't help that her dad kinda. . . lost himself after he woke up." Steve paused before continuing, "I don't blame him. He lost the love of his life and it was his fault. If I lost Y/N because of something I did? It would destroy me."
"Steve," Robin started, but Steve continued.
"Y/N's dad spends all of December with a bottle in his hand. Christmas Eve, he usually disappears until New Years."
"So Y/N spends Christmas alone?"
"Ever since the accident. . . She prefers it that way."
"I'm surprised you don't invite her over to spend it with you."
"I do!" Steve scoffed, his anger building. "I always invite her over to my house. Every year! But she. . . She's too damn stubborn to admit that she doesn't want to spend the holidays alone."
"She's probably about as stubborn as you," Robin laughed. "No wonder you're best friends. You belong together."
I waited a little bit before coming out of the employee's lounge. When I did, Robin not-so-subtly kicked Steve. They both cleared their throats before going back to work. A little while later, I was restocking some shelves when I heard Steve and Robin have what sounded like a fake conversation.
"Hey, Robin," Steve started, his voice cracking with nerves. "Isn't it time for your break?"
"You know what?" Robin laughed. "I think you're right. In fact, I'm gonna go to the burger place down the street. You guys want anything?"
"No, we're fine," Steve said, sending her a look. She put her hands up in defense before leaving the store. But not before sending me an encouraging smile and an odd wink.
The second the door closed behind her, Steve walked over to me. He cleared his throat, slightly hesitating.
"Just say it," I sighed. "You always were horrible at acting like you weren't up to something."
I walked by him as he laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "You caught that, huh?"
"Of course I did," I scoffed. "You and Robin are as subtle as a fire alarm."
I jumped up and sat on the counter. Steve walked over to me, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Spit it out, Steve."
"Christmas is next week," Steve hesitated.
"Yeah," I shrugged. "So?"
"So, I want to fix the holiday for you."
"Steve. . ."
"I just want to show you that it can be better," he sighed. He walked over and stood between my legs. He gently placed his hands on my knees.
"I hate seeing you like this every Christmas," he whispered. "I just want you to enjoy the holiday."
I wanted to tell him that nothing could make me love this holiday, but the look of hope in his eyes made me want to say yes.
"Okay," I whispered. "What did you have in mind?"
The way his face lit up made my stomach flip. He grabbed my hands and started excitedly explaining his plan to me.
"Well, I figured that we could start with you staying with me until after Christmas. I was thinking maybe until New Years?"
"You really want me to stay with you?" I asked, my voice suddenly soft.
"Of course," he shrugged. "I hate that you spend the holidays alone. If you spent them at my house, then you wouldn't be alone. You'd have me."
"I would," I smiled. I sighed, still a little hesitant. "Are you sure about this?"
"Of course," he said, giving my hand a squeeze. "Y/N, please. Give me a chance to show you that Christmas can be fun again. It'll be just like when we were little. Snowball fights, snowmen building competitions, decorating gingerbread houses, Christmas movie marathons. All of it."
"Steve," I said shakily.
"I know how hard this holiday is for you," Steve said, squeezing my hands, "but it kills me to see you struggling so much. I want to try and make it better for you."
"I appreciate that but. . ."
"Please," he whispered. "I promise to try and make it better."
I smiled as I saw just how serious my best friend was about all this. I know Steve. When he sets his mind to something, he means it.
"Bring it on, Harrington."
"Just call me Bob Cratchit."
"You're a dork, Cratchit."
* * * * *
It was cute how hard Steve was trying to get me to like Christmas. Unfortunately, none of it worked.
After our snowball fight with Dustin and the other kids, I ended up catching a cold that put me on bed rest for the rest of the week. I was at the worst part of the cold so we chose not to have our Christmas Snowmen Competition.
I was still too weak on Christmas Eve to decorate gingerbread houses so I spent the night, wrapped in Steve's sweatshirt and several blankets as the kids built and decorated gingerbread houses. Christmas Day, Steve and I didn't do much. I ended up constantly falling asleep.
"How are you feeling?" Steve asked as he brought me a large mug of chicken noodle soup.
I started to sit up but was still pretty weak. Steve quickly put down the mug and turned around to help me. He put an extra pillow behind me and fixed my blanket. When he was satisfied that I looked comfy, he sat on the edge of the couch and he scanned my face.
"You still look kinda pale," he mumbled. He reached up and felt my forehead. I smiled and leaned into his touch as his cold hand felt amazing on my burning skin.
"You're burning up," he whispered. "I don't understand why your fever hasn't broken yet. You've had this for three days."
"I'm fine," I said, my stuffy nose adding in a random d at the end of the word fine. "My fever should break in another day or two."
"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he sighed, leaning back into the couch. He picked up my legs and put my feet on his lap. I smiled weakly as he gently started rubbing my ankles.
"I really tried to fix Christmas for you, Y/N," Steve said, leaning his head back onto the cushion. He rolled his head so he was looking at me. "I'm afraid I only made it worse."
"You did," I shrugged with a teasing smile. I reached over and took his cold hand in my warm one, "But thank you for trying."
I saw the look of disappointment on his face and my guilt built. I squeezed his hand, making him look at me.
"We could still do our Christmas Movie Marathon," I suggested. "As long as you don't mind my coughing attacks every few minutes."
"Of course, I don't mind," Steve chuckled. "But you should try to eat some soup."
Steve handed me the soup he made before putting in one of the many movies he rented from work. He stayed by my feet, constantly glancing at me to make sure I was eating as the movie played. When I was done, he put the empty mug on the coffee table and pulled on my hand to make it so I was laying my head on his lap. He started running his fingers through my hair.
After starting the third movie, Steve crawled onto the couch behind me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and held me close to his chest. The way he was holding me made it impossible to stay awake.
I woke up as the credits were rolling. My face burned when I realized I had rolled over and tucked more into Steve's chest. I looked up to see Steve asleep.
As I lay in my best friend's arms, I thought about how much he tried to make me like Christmas. Steve's always loved this time of year. When I lost my mom, he was by my side all Christmas day. He's been by my side ever since.
And to be honest, I've loved that he's always there if I need him. He never hesitated to come running. It got to the point where I depended on him a little too much.
I didn't look away as he slowly woke up. He looked down at me and smiled.
"Hey, you," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," I said under my breath. He smiled as he ran his fingers through my hair.
"I'm sorry I failed."
"Steve," I sighed, "you didn't fail."
"Really?" He scoffed as he slowly sat us up. "I forced you to go through Christmas traditions, even though you didn't want to. Those same activities got you sick. So sick, you've barely been able to transfer from the guest bedroom to the couch without getting dizzy. I'm a horrible friend."
"You are not," I said firmly. "You are an amazing friend, Steve. You always have been."
"And I always will be," he said instantly. He dropped his voice as he added, "You mean too much for me to treat you any differently, Y/N."
"You mean a lot to me too," I whispered.
"You don't understand," Steve sighed. He stood up, grabbed my empty mug, and took it to the kitchen.
"Steve?" I called to him. I tried to sit up but instantly got dizzy. I collapsed back onto the couch as Steve ran back in. He instantly sat next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist.
"You need to rest, Y/N," he sighed. He reached down to move the blanket, but I grabbed his hand and stopped him.
"What don't I understand, Steve?"
"It doesn't matter," he stuttered.
"Clearly it does," I sighed. My sigh triggered a coughing attack. I covered my mouth, turning away from Steve. He reached forward and rubbed my back until I calmed down.
"Please," I whispered, trying to catch my breath. "Please tell me what you meant, Steve."
He hesitated before scooting closer to me. "I guess it's time you knew," he whispered. "But I just want to say one thing first, I don't want what I'm about to say to change anything between us. If you don't feel the same, if you don't agree. . ."
"Just say it."
"I love you, Y/N."
He studied me, waiting to see if I would have any reaction. My reaction was tears coming to my eyes.
"You do?" I stuttered.
"Of course," Steve chuckled. "Why else would I come running the second you slightly needed help?"
"I just thought. . . I just thought we were best friends."
"Best friends don't feel the way I feel about you, as deeply as I do," he whispered. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering.
He dropped his hand and cleared his throat. "You never gave me your answer," he said softly.
"You don't know?" I teased. Steve smiled at me as he softly shook his head.
"Best friends don't feel the way I feel about you, as deeply as I do," I whispered his words back to me.
His happiness was undeniable. He scooted closer to me but stopped. He glanced down at my lips and sighed.
"If you weren't sick," he whispered. I waited for him to finish, but he didn't.
"What?"
"I might kiss you."
"Might?"
"Definitely would," Steve corrected.
"Well, I should feel better in a couple of days. . ."
"And I'll be there the second you are."
We both looked at each other, smiling like idiots. Steve pulled me into his chest and laid us back down. I felt his soft breathing as he dragged his fingers up and down my arm.
"You did it, Cratchit," I whispered.
"Did what, Scrooge?" Steve asked with a soft laugh.
"You fixed Christmas."