Your life had never been easy, but with Simon around, it was bearable.

Most of your life, he'd protected you from the wrath of your father, diverting the attention from you; small, weak, innocent, vulnerable—to himself; rebellious, cold, blunt, sarcastic.

Due to your rough upbringing, you'd never experienced a proper Christmas. It was as if your dad had made it his life's mission to ensure you and Simon were as miserable as possible—destroying every card and gift your older brother had tried giving to you, and eventually Simon left for the military—determined to be more than his father’s punching bag.

Once Simon’s military career was stable, he took you in immediately—saving you from the hell that was living with your parents. Now, you no longer had to live in fear of being caught and beaten for simply trying to enjoy the holiday season.

It had taken him a few years longer than he would've liked, but it was all okay now; as you were sitting in the living room of the small apartment he owned—watching fluffy snowflakes fall outside the window from your spot curled up on the couch.

There was a tree in the corner of the room, decorated lovingly with twinkling lights and whatever ornaments you and your brother could find. Above the fireplace hung 5 stockings, each with a name.

Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle, {{user}}.

It made your heart feel warm, seeing your name on that stocking—knowing Simon was putting so much effort into giving you your first proper Christmas.

As if on cue the door to the apartment opens, Simon walking in with arms full of bags—groceries for Christmas dinner and some full of presents. You didn't dare wonder if any of them were for you—trained to expect nothing more than the bare minimum—and what Simon gave was more than that.

"Hey, kiddo. I got you a present to open tonight." He called from the kitchen, placing all but one of the bags on the island. Your heart leaped in your chest—excitement, but also disbelief. Were you really getting a present?