Falling snow was knitting a blanket of white over all of Storybrooke, thick enough to rival one of Granny’s. Emma watched it come down from the safety of her sitting room, standing in the bay window with a mug of cocoa in her hands and wearing a borrowed pair of Killian’s flannel pajamas with the pink fuzzy socks her mom put in her stocking last year.
Tomorrow was Christmas, which would inevitably be chaos—the good kind, though. She and Killian would spend the morning together—likely doing some things that would put them on the naughty list—before heading to the large family gathering at her parents, which was sure to be filled with too many presents, too much laughter, and way too many sweets. (Emma may have gotten an early start there, judging by the empty spots on the cooling trays of cookies, but she didn’t think anyone would blame her.)
There were occasional times in the weeks leading up to the holiday that she wanted things to be a bit quieter, a bit calmer. Between the shopping and her mother’s attention to detail and just, everything, she was tired and seriously considering asking Santa for a nap.
But then she’d remember all the years of longing for something even halfway resembling the family and celebration she had to look forward to—the years where the day went by with little to no fanfare, the ones spent in her own in whatever near-empty apartment she’d leased—and any concern or stress melted away. It was hard to complain when she was surrounded by her crazy, loving extended family and her amazing, beautiful husband, especially when they had so much to look forward to.
Speaking of, gentle footsteps snuck up behind her, and suddenly, she was wrapped in a cozy blanket and a pair of strong arms. Killian placed a soft kiss on her cheek as he molded himself to her backside. “Everything alright, love?” he murmured as he pulled her closer.
“It’s perfect,” she answered. “And even better now,” she continued, leaning some of her weight back against him and continuing to gaze out the window. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
“Aye,” he replied with a kiss on her neck. “I agree; you are gorgeous.”
She should have known he wasn’t looking outside, but still giggled and blushed at his comment. “What’s the blanket for?” she asked, moving on.
“I’d be a piss-poor husband and even worse father if I let my wife and the mother of my future child catch a winter cold from a drafty window.” His hand caressed the bump at her midsection where their baby was growing; their child wouldn’t arrive for some time still, but was yet another thing she couldn’t have ever imagined having, let alone with her True Love. “Are you warm enough, darling?”
She turned in his arms, taking hold of the blanket and wrapping it around him, too, once she faced him. He was staring down at her with a soft gaze of complete adoration in his eyes, made bluer by the pale light from outside. And she couldn’t help but think that even if the rest of the world froze over, as long as she had him—and the love shining back at her—she’d always be fine.
“I am, but I’m always warmer with you.”
Sending love to all the amazing friends I have here! Hope you all have/had wonderful holidays with your families and loved ones!! Here’s to a great 2018!! (tags under the cut)
It All Starts With a Dance 