Through the fogged-up window, Gigi watches the world unfold—a beautiful tapestry of snow, car exhaust, and streetlights adorned with red and green. In the late afternoon, the scene outside feels serene, as if time itself is in harmony. People stroll by in winter coats, couples holding hands, while Christmas vines gracefully drape over the buildings.
Frosted window panes, candles gleaming inside.
It’s Christmas, and Gigi feels cosy inside the café. The soft glow of the lights casts a warm, golden hue, and the low hum of music blends with the clatter of conversations around her. It’s comforting, like a quiet little bubble in the middle of a busy world. She wraps her hands around her warm mug, the steam rising in soft curls, pulling her into the moment. For a second, it’s enough.
But beneath the comfort, there’s something else—something a little harder to define. It’s like the echo of a song she can’t quite remember, lingering just out of reach. Christmas is supposed to be a time of togetherness, yet here she is, wrapped in a blanket of solitude, watching the world around her celebrate while she tries to figure out where she fits into it all.
Painted candy canes on the tree.
She’s seated in the far corner of the café, her booth tucked away, but her gaze lingers on the world outside, distant and unfocused. The festive lights twinkle through the fogged-up window, but inside, her mind is preoccupied. And because it’s Christmas, because everything feels more poignant today, Gigi Murin finds herself weighed down by a burning question. It's a question she can’t shake, no matter how much she tries to lose herself in the warmth of the café or the holiday hum around her.
Santa’s on his way, he’s filled his sleigh with things.
A simple question, really—one that could shape her Christmas, even if it seemed trivial. Not a big deal, really—but in this moment, it felt like everything hung on it. Could it change everything? Could it leave her in this endless uncertainty?
“Gigi.”
Cecilia’s voice cuts through her thoughts, sharp and sudden. Gigi jumps, her heart skipping a beat as she turns, wide-eyed. “What—you scared me!” she exclaims, hand flying to her chest as she catches her breath.
Cecilia’s already seated across from her, that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’ve been here for a minute,” she says, casually crossing her arms as if she didn’t just sneak up on Gigi and send her heart into overdrive.
Gigi blinks, disoriented, her pulse still racing. “Well, you didn’t have to sneak up on me like that,” she mutters, a little embarrassed but also grateful for the distraction.
Things for you and me.
Cecilia's presence fills the space, her green eyes soft under the café lights, and the way she’s dressed—a white top with gold buttons, an open-shoulder design paired with a green tie—makes Gigi’s breath hitch for just a second.
She looks… beautiful.
It’s the time of year when the world falls in love.
She looks beautiful, too beautiful, and Gigi wonders if she’s fallen a little deeper than she’s willing to admit. Her cheeks feel flushed, but it’s not the warmth of the café—it’s something else, something more intense. Something she doesn’t want to fully unpack right now.
“Are you alright?”
Cecilia’s voice slices through her thoughts, soft and warm, but with that unmistakable edge of concern that always makes Gigi feel like she’s been caught, like she’s not quite hiding what she wants to. Gigi blinks, caught off guard, and instinctively clears her throat, trying to shake off the sudden flutter in her chest.
“Yeah,” she says, too quickly. “Just… lost in thought.” The words come out tighter than she meant, and the smile she offers is nervous, a little too small, like she’s hoping Cecilia won’t notice.
Cecilia’s eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn’t press further, letting the moment linger just enough to make Gigi squirm.
Every song you hear seems to say.
Cecilia leans forward slightly, her gaze softening. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says, her voice lighter now, almost teasing. “But you were staring out that window like it was the only thing in the world.”
Gigi shrugs, the motion small and somewhat defensive. “I wasn’t staring,” she mutters, avoiding eye contact as she takes a sip of her drink. The warmth of the mug is a comfort, but it doesn't quite settle the knot in her stomach.
“Sure, sure,” Cecilia replies with a knowing smile. She settles back in her seat, looking more relaxed than Gigi feels. “What’s got you so deep in thought, then? Something more exciting than Christmas lights?”
Merry Christmas, may your New Year dreams come true.
Gigi hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek. She wants to tell Cecilia—wants to say that she’s been tangled up in her own mind, wondering if this, whatever this is between them, is real. But the words feel like they might come out wrong, or worse—like they’ll make things weird between them. Instead, she shrugs again, as nonchalantly as possible. “Just... stuff,” she says, her voice tight as she avoids meeting Cecilia’s eyes.
The corner of Cecilia’s mouth quirks into a half-smile, her eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. “Stuff,” she repeats, leaning forward just a little more, as though testing Gigi’s resolve. “You know, for someone who speaks way too much, you sure leave a lot unsaid.”
Gigi’s chest tightens, and she can’t help but feel like Cecilia is somehow seeing through her walls—her half-hearted attempts to keep things casual, the way she skirts around her own feelings. “I'm fine,” she repeats, a little too quickly. “Really.”
And this song of mine in three-quarter time.
Cecilia holds her gaze for a long beat, as if deciding whether to push further or not. Then, as if the decision is made for her, she shifts in her seat and glances out the window, her fingers tapping absently on the edge of her cup. The atmosphere between them lingers, not quite uncomfortable but far from relaxed.
“Alright,” Cecilia says after a pause, her voice soft, almost gentle now. “But just so you know, I’m here if you want to talk.”
Gigi nods quickly, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she says, her voice quieter now. She’s not sure why, but the offer—so simple, so genuine—feels like it’s wrapping around her chest, squeezing a little too tightly.
Wishes you and yours the same thing too.
Outside, the snow falls in gentle waves, swirling like soft cotton against the backdrop of twinkling streetlights. The world is in motion, spinning in its usual holiday frenzy, but here in the café, time feels like it has slowed down—just enough for Gigi to wrestle with that burning question she’s been trying so hard to ignore.
Could Cecilia feel the same way? Or was she just caught up in the holiday magic, too, swept up in the same festive fog that had clouded Gigi’s thoughts all afternoon?
Gigi takes another sip of her drink, not meeting Cecilia’s eyes. Maybe she’s just imagining things.
It’s the time of year when the world falls in love.
But then Cecilia shifts again, her voice cutting through the silence with an unexpected warmth. “You’re not alone, Gigi. Not today.”
And maybe, just maybe, those words mean more than she wants to admit.
The moment they step outside the café, the chill of the winter air hits Gigi’s skin, but it’s softened by the warmth of Cecilia beside her. The snowflakes that drift from the sky are light and lazy, falling in soft patterns against the glowing backdrop of the holiday market. Christmas music floats through the air, and the chatter of people mingling with the scent of pine trees and spiced cider makes it feel like a winter wonderland.
Gigi glances at Cecilia, who seems completely at ease in this festive chaos, her eyes bright with curiosity as she takes in the market around them. The lights strung between the stalls twinkle, reflecting in her green eyes, and Gigi can’t help but stare a little longer than she should.
“So, what do you think?” Cecilia asks, turning to her with a grin. She gestures toward the market stalls, which are brimming with all sorts of Christmas decorations, handmade gifts, and seasonal treats.
Gigi blinks, realising she’s been staring too long. “Oh, uh, it’s great. Yeah. Really festive,” she stammers, feeling her cheeks warm.
Cecilia raises an eyebrow but lets it go, pulling Gigi by the wrist to drag her toward a booth displaying colourful scarves and mittens. The cold air bites at Gigi’s cheeks, but the closeness of Cecilia’s touch keeps her distracted. She watches as Cecilia runs her fingers along the fabrics, clearly interested in the soft textures.
“Look at this one,” Cecilia says, holding up a deep red scarf with little snowflakes embroidered on it. “You should get it. It’d look cute on you.”
Gigi’s breath catches in her throat. “Me? Why would I need a scarf? I’m... not cold.” She laughs nervously, glancing away.
“Uh-huh,” Cecilia says, her tone teasing. “Sure, you’re not cold, but I’m sure it’ll look adorable on you.”
Gigi feels a slight warmth in her chest, but her mouth goes dry. She laughs again, too loud this time, trying to hide the awkwardness that’s settled in. Her eyes dart around, trying to focus on anything that isn’t Cecilia’s gaze.
She can do this. She wants to do this. Confess, that is. But every time she tries, her words get tangled in her throat.
“So... uh, you really think it would look good on me?” Gigi asks, her voice betraying a hint of nerves.
“Totally,” Cecilia replies, not missing a beat. “But if you’re not into it, we can just keep walking. It’s just—“ She pauses, her voice a little more serious, as if she’s considering something. "Maybe we could... you know, try something a little more fun? Like that.”
Cecilia points toward a cart full of ornaments—snow globes, twinkling lights, and a few playful reindeer figurines. “We could find something silly. A little Christmas memento.”
“Yeah, I love Christmas mementos,” Gigi says quickly, eager to change the subject before she has to say anything else. She starts moving toward the cart but stumbles slightly in her haste, catching herself before she embarrasses herself. “Who doesn’t, right?”
But as they start browsing the market together, Gigi's mind is still buzzing with the same thoughts. Every glance Cecilia gives her makes her heart skip, every soft comment sends a wave of warmth through her chest. She wants to say something—to just blurt it out, maybe. But no. That would be... too much. Definitely too much.
The market hums around them, people laughing, children running by with candy canes in their hands. Everything is so... perfect. And yet, here Gigi is, stammering like an idiot, trying to figure out how to express what she’s been feeling for... well, too long.
Gigi picks up a small snow globe—a little bear inside it, holding a candy cane—and twirls it absently in her hands. “This one’s cute,” she mutters, still lost in her thoughts.
Cecilia leans over, her shoulder brushing against Gigi’s. “You’re not really paying attention, are you?”
“Hmm?” Gigi glances up, caught off guard by the question. “Oh! No, I totally am. Just, uh, looking at the bear. It’s—uh, cute.” She forces a smile, but it’s far too stiff, and Cecilia notices, her eyebrow raising slightly.
“Gigi, you’re really acting weird today. More than usual. What’s up?” Cecilia asks, her voice soft but insistent.
Gigi opens her mouth, ready to say something, anything to break the tension. But then she freezes, her brain short-circuiting. It’s like her words are stuck somewhere deep down, swirling around and refusing to come out.
“I—uh,” she stutters, then sighs, looking away. “I don’t know. Just... thinking.”
Thinking about her heart, about the way Cecilia’s presence always seems to make everything else fade into the background. Gigi wants to tell her how much it means, how it feels like everything is a little brighter when Cecilia’s around. But those words... they just won’t come out.
“So,” Gigi starts again, her tone shifting quickly as she spots something else to distract herself, “do you think we should grab a hot chocolate or something?”
Cecilia’s laughter rings out like music. “You’re seriously avoiding this conversation, aren’t you?” she says, her grin widening. “Alright, alright, we’ll go get hot chocolate. But I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”
Gigi sighs in relief as Cecilia drags her toward the hot chocolate stand, grateful for the distraction—but also wishing she had the courage to tell Cecilia how she feels, how much she’s been feeling it for so long now. The whole day, with its festive cheer and close proximity, only makes it more real—but the words? They’re still stuck, and she’s not sure when they’ll ever find their way out.
The winter chill bites at Gigi’s skin, but the warmth from Cecilia’s side helps shield her from the cold. Around them, the holiday market bustles with life—twinkling lights, the scent of pine trees, and the laughter of people filling the air. Snowflakes float lazily from the sky, adding to the festive atmosphere, and Gigi can’t help but feel a sense of excitement stirring inside her.
She glances over at Cecilia, her breath catching for a moment as she sees her relaxed expression, eyes bright and curious as she takes in the sights of the market. It’s impossible not to notice the way the lights reflect in her eyes, or how comfortable and at ease she seems in this moment. Gigi wants that too—the ease, the connection. She just... doesn’t know how to get it.
The mistletoe overhead seems to mock her in its stillness, waiting.
“Gigi,” Cecilia teases, her voice light and playful. “Under the mistletoe. You know what comes next, right?”
Gigi stammers for a moment, her mind racing. “Uh... yeah. I mean, I know...” She wants to sound confident, but there’s a flutter in her chest that makes it hard to keep her voice steady. Still, she’s not going to let this opportunity slip away. She can feel that something’s shifting inside her.
Cecilia steps closer, a teasing grin pulling at her lips. “So, what are you waiting for?”
Before Gigi can even think about it, Cecilia leans in and presses a soft kiss to her cheek, pulling back almost immediately with a grin.
“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cecilia says, her tone light and teasing.
But for Gigi, it feels like everything’s just changed. Her cheek burns where Cecilia’s lips touched her, and her heart races. She touches her cheek absently, trying to steady her breath. “I... I don’t know,” she murmurs, but there’s a spark of something new in her.
Cecilia watches her, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You don’t know, huh?” She smirks. “Well, I guess if you wanted more, you’d have to ask for it.”
Gigi pauses. Her heartbeat picks up again, faster now. She can feel the warmth creeping up her neck and into her cheeks, but this time it’s not just from embarrassment. She’s done waiting. She’s done being shy about it.
Without thinking, she grabs Cecilia’s arm and pulls her back in, her heart pounding. She looks up at Cecilia, her breath coming a little faster, but her eyes steady. “I want more,” she says, voice a little huskier than usual. “I’ve wanted more for a while, actually.”
Cecilia’s eyebrows raise, but before she can say anything, Gigi takes a step closer, tilting her head just slightly, and presses her lips firmly against Cecilia’s. It's a kiss full of unspoken things—things Gigi's been too afraid to say, too unsure of herself to act on. But now, with the snow falling around them and the festive chaos fading away in the background, Gigi feels like this moment is all that matters.
Cecilia freezes for a moment, caught off guard, but then her hands move to rest on Gigi’s waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepens, slow and warm, a steady rhythm between them that makes Gigi’s head spin.
When they pull away, both of them breathing a little heavier, Gigi smiles—real, genuine, a little nervous, but there’s confidence behind it now. “There. That was more,” she says softly, her voice full of quiet triumph.
Cecilia’s eyes are wide, her lips still curved in a soft smile. She doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at Gigi like she’s trying to process it all. Then, with a soft chuckle, she says, “Well, damn. I didn’t expect that, but I’m not complaining.”
Gigi laughs, her nerves still there, but they’re replaced with something else—excitement, maybe. “Yeah, well... I’m done overthinking. I just wanted to kiss you. It felt right.”
Under the mistletoe, with the snow falling softly around them, Gigi feels something shift deep inside. Maybe, just maybe, she’s found her place.