Chapter 1
Lara wasn’t a big Christmas person. From her father always going on trips, to him dying, and her practically being raised by Ana, Winston and Roth, the Croft Manor didn’t exactly have the Christmas Spirit in the air during the holidays.
So she didn’t expect to be standing alone at night, outside Samantha Nishimura’s house, in the freezing London snow, holding a bouquet of roses that could wither any minute.
Frozen as the icy ground below her, she couldn’t seem to move a muscle, staring at the doorbell. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, clashing with the void of hesitation and paralyzing anxiety that held her down like a statue. She felt like she would crumble like a rockslide if she took a step closer, or even held up her hand to reach the door.
The only thing harder than saying goodbye is saying hello again.
She stood there for what felt like ages - while at the same time it felt like time stopped completely - and finally began to move, raising her hand to knock at the door. She was wearing her favorite parka, red. What got her through Siberia is now a cozy coat to use when going out in the cold. Two knocks echoed in the deafening silence.
Her heart jumped when she heard the door unlock. The door opened, revealing a woman saying: “I swear if you’re going to tell me about Jehovah, dead on December 25th I will pun-” when her hasty protest was interrupted by her eyes landing on the person outside.
Sam loved holidays. She loved to celebrate them with family and friends, with games like secret santa and white elephant. She remembers that, in college, she would make history-themed holiday games to cheer Lara up and get her out of her shell with other classmates.
Oh. That’s right. Lara.
She looked over her freshly baked santa cookies, her last thought making her stomach drop. “Stop thinking about her. She probably forgot you by now.” Snapping back to reality, she took the plate of green and red cookies to the dinner table and placed them next to the “Turkey”. In quotations because all of the Christmas turkeys ran out and she had to buy regular. Besides, she couldn’t eat an entire feast by herself. So cookies and regular turkey it is. Maybe also a sandwich and some liquor to top it off.
She sighed and plopped herself on her sofa. As much as she tried, the Christmas Spirit hasn’t been very present for the last couple of years. The only spirit present on the holidays was several bottles of the finest, cheapest gin London had to offer.
After a few minutes of couch potato-ing, Sam heard a knock at the door. “Here we go,” she muttered. “Who’s going to interrupt my perfectly fine Christmas Blues?” She thought about the Jehovah Witness neighbours who lived a few houses apart. They’ve certainly annoyed her before, and she even tried telling them she’s a satanist for them to stop their insufferable visits. Sam stormed to the door, ready to make a ruckus. She was halfway through her spiel when she truly noticed the person standing in front of her.
She could recognize that ponytail from anywhere.