They were perfect. Such a perfect couple.
“I’m putting it on the tree!” Mila declared, hopping to her feet. “Lift me up?”
“You can use the stool,” Alexander said dryly.
Mila pouted. “Alexander!”
Sighing, Alexander walked over and held her up so that she could put the star on the top of the tree.
Mila placed the star before sliding down Alexander’s body and kissing him, her arms around his neck.
Christian watched them kiss. There was a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, one that churned and wrenched through him. He felt nauseous.
He cleared his throat and entered the room, putting on a bright smile. “All right, I’ve gotta go.” Not that they looked like they remembered he was still there.
The couple stopped kissing and turned to him.
Mila smiled, leaning her cheek against Alexander’s chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her body language reeked of possessiveness. “Are you spending Christmas here? I mean in the city,” she added quickly, as though afraid Christian would mistake it for an invitation.
Christian smiled tightly. He was neither stupid nor blind. He had noticed that Mila had started disliking him. He wondered why she hadn’t told him anything yet.
“Yeah, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. My parents are in Iceland, studying volcanoes, so it’s just Grandma and me.”
Mila nodded. “We won’t see you again for a while, so Merry Christmas!”
Christian nearly laughed. It was as subtle as a punch in the mouth. “Yeah,” he said, shrugging into his jacket. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”
He almost reached the door when Alexander said, “Don’t go.”
Christian stopped. “What?”
“You can’t go outside.”
“Why not?”
Alexander untangled himself from Mila and walked to him.
“Your hair is wet,” he said, running his hand through Christian’s hair. His fingers brushed Christian’s ear. “It’s freezing outside.”
Christian swallowed, meeting his dark blue eyes. Over Alexander’s shoulder, he could see that Mila was frowning.
“I never get colds,” Christian said. He smiled, very brightly. “I really gotta go. Have a date with Skyrim tonight. Want to kick that dragon’s ass.”
Alexander snorted. “Skyrim is lame,” he said before walking a bit away to a cupboard and pulling out a towel. “The story is weak, and there are no meaningful choices in the game. Try Planescape: Torment if you want to play a real RPG.”
He returned to Christian and started drying his hair with the towel, looking cool and efficient. Like there was nothing strange about it. Like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.
Christian stared at him.
Okay. He knew Alexander could be a very considerate guy when he wanted to be—Christian had seen him in “Perfect Boyfriend” mode too many times to count, and it always annoyed him—but this… Christian had to admit it felt…nice when he was on the receiving end of his attention. More than nice.
“Shut it, you hater,” Christian said with a forced chuckle, trying to act like this wasn’t making him feel weird at all. “I don’t play Skyrim for the story. I play it because it’s pretty and fun, and I can go anywhere I want! Besides, it has some really cool mods.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Like Animated Prostitution. You can have sex with anyone!”
Alexander snorted. “Why am I not surprised,” he murmured, his strong fingers massaging his scalp as he continued drying Christian’s hair.
Christian tried not to lean into the touch; really, he tried. “I didn’t know you played videogames. You don’t seem the type.”
“Why?”
Christian shrugged. “I don’t know. You always look so…mature and serious.”
“You don’t have to be immature and over-emotional to enjoy a good videogame.” Alexander’s voice was even, but his eyes glimmered with amusement.
Christian laughed a little. “Yeah, make fun of me.” He went still when Alexander’s fingers brushed his temple.
“It’s dry enough now,” Alexander said, his voice low.
“Yeah,” Christian said, rocking slightly on his feet. His lips parted. He wet them as their gazes locked.
Alexander’s fingers were still in his hair.
“Honey, can you help me with this ornament?”
Alexander didn’t move, still looking at him.
“Alexander?”
Something flickered in Alexander’s eyes. “Yes,” he said.
But he didn’t step away from Christian.
Christian looked over his shoulder at Mila. She had her lips pursed tightly.
When their eyes met, she glared at him.
“Right,” Christian said, turning to the door. “See you.”
Alexander’s hand grabbed his arm.
Christian inhaled shakily, his heart thudding in his throat. “What?” he said, without turning around.
Alexander’s warm breath brushed against his ear. “Merry Christmas.”
Christian exhaled and whispered, “Merry Christmas.”
The hand on his arm lingered for a moment before it was gone. Christian open the door and left. As he always did.
It was dark outside.
It was snowing; soft dreamy flakes of snow whirled and spiraled down to the ground. Bright red and green lights twinkled along the windows and doors of stores while the streets were covered in a carpet of white. It was beautiful. Like something from a fairy tale.