"Where's your elf costume?" Everett asked as soon as I stepped into the cafe. It was the night before our workshop, and the place was empty save for him.
"What? What costume?"
"You should practice in what you're wearing tomorrow. It's like a dress rehearsal," he explained.
I frowned. "We're not wearing costumes, are we? Where's your one?"
"No, I'm dressing as a human. You'll be the Christmas elf who'll help me bake and share the joy of the season."
I stared at him blankly. "You're kidding."
"Yes." Everett grinned. "But just think how cute you'd look."
I batted him away. "Come on, we need to prepare."
"I didn't hear a no to the costume."
"No."
"Aww, but it would suit you so well," he teased, leaning close to tug at my ear. "You already look like an elf with your pointy little ears."
I scowled at that but his lips met mine, and I melted faster than I'd like to admit. Heated lips moved to my ear, biting the so-called pointy tip and turning it red.
Everett's arms slipped around my waist, his whisper sending a shiver down my spine. "You'd look good in stockings."
"And nothing but?" My lips quirked up in a smile. "Maybe some other time."
His jaw went slack, eyes widening and mouth slightly parting. I could tell his mind was going to unclean places. Then, to my absolute shock, Everett blushed. His face turned a deep shade of red, flushing all the way down to his neck.
"That's not really what I meant," he choked out. "I meant- I mean, elf stockings...as part of the full Christmas elf outfit! For the purposes of the workshop!"
His garbling reaction made me flush too, wondering what the hell I was thinking when I said that. I coughed, turning away to hide my blooming cheeks. "Don't get distracted, we have work to do."
"Er...right, er- yeah, just," he gestured towards the kitchen, "come on."
The kitchen had been opened up, all the baking equipment we needed lined up neatly on the counters. It was luckily quite large, and fit a fair amount of seating. The double doors were big enough that most of the seating outside the kitchen area had a clear view in as well.
"I brought this to make the cake in," Everett said, pulling out a big bowl from the cabinet. It was shaped like half a sphere. "I was thinking we could make two and like paste them together into a big ball of cake."
I could already imagine a big ball of cake rolling across the kitchen floor. "It might be too deep to cook fully through. Do you have a flat tray?"
"No, I didn't think about that." Everett looked disappointed. "I was just thinking of the aesthetics."
I checked the underside of the bowl, relieved when I saw the oven-safe symbol. "We can still do it, but I don't know how long it'll take to cook. And I have a long list of all the things we need to make," I said, checking my phone. "Gingerbread, Stollen, Pannetone, Christmas pudding...a ton of marzipan. Not to mention all the cupcakes, cookies, and brownies that need to be ready for decorating."
"We just have the one bowl."
I sucked in a breath.
"No, don't worry! There's trays," Everett quickly said. "That is a lot of stuff though." He looked a little daunted.
"I'm sure we can finish on time if we start now."
I started measuring out the ingredients and we fell into a steady rhythm. We had baked together so often by now that we didn't really need words. I only had to glance up for Everett to hand me the salt, and he only had to hesitate for me to snatch the eggs from his inept hands and crack them for him. Of course, Everett still kept a stream of chatter going on nonetheless.
"What do you want for Christmas?" he asked after a while.
"Oh." I shrugged. "I haven't thought about it."
"I want a dog."
"That was fast." I grinned, figuring that's why he'd brought it up. "Since when do want a dog?"
"I've always wanted a dog, Clementine." He looked at me beseechingly. "How could you not know that about me?"
"You've literally never mentioned a dog before."
"It's like my lifelong dream to have a dog!"
I paused. "Will your parents be okay with me getting you one though?"
"Who, my parents? Yeah they LOVE animals," he enthused. "They would be so okay with having a dog. Actually, I think they really want one too."
"You think?" I asked a little unsurely.
"Oh I know," he hastily corrected. His eyes turned large as he implored, "I want a BIG dog. Huge one. Like a wolf." Everett reached his arms to either side to show how big he expected this dog to be.
His beaming smile was infectious, and I smiled as well. "I'll see what I can do."
"Yay." He bounced on his toes. "Did you put your tree up yet? We're decorating day-after."
"At my house? No, I don't decorate."
Everett dropped the bag of sugar, his eyes going wide. "Not even a tree?"
"No- hey, be careful," I said, catching it as it started to roll off the counter.
"Why not?"
"Why would I put up decorations and then just take them down in a month, it seems kind of pointless."
"Because it's Christmas!"
"I mean, it makes sense to decorate a cafe." I waved around us. "But no one's going to see my house. Anyway, I did when I was younger—or my parents did, I guess—but Jamie and I can't really be bothered much anymore."
Everett looked like he wanted to say something more but then got weirdly quiet. I didn't trust the expression on his face. It was like he was plotting.
"Oh, we should video this," he suddenly said. He pulled out his phone and placed it precariously on the edge of the table. "Imagine there's an audience and try to face them."
I internally shuddered at the thought of an actual audience. When I agreed to do this thing, I had completely forgotten that I would be doing it in front of at least twenty total strangers. I hoped Everett would keep up the chatter because I didn't think I could actually look at that many people and say words.
"Hey, don't worry about it," Everett quickly said, sensing my distress. "Really it'll be just the same as when we're always baking, just," he tugged on my hips, twisting me towards the camera, "face your body in that direction when talking to me."
"It's not exactly the same," I grumbled.
"But I'll be here." Everett smiled and it lit up the room. "It's going to go great."