JJ leaned back against the porch railing, pulling Alora into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his hand. It was one of those rare moments where everything seemed still, and JJ’s usual energy was replaced by a content quiet. His hand brushed through Alora’s hair, and for the first time all evening, he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with jokes or wild ideas.
“You good?” Alora asked softly, looking up at him with a small smile.
JJ grinned, but it was softer than usual. “Yeah. Just… you, me, and this. Can’t ask for much more.”
Inside, the rest of the crew was still sharing stories and memories. Pope and Cleo were caught up in a conversation about their favorite beach spots, each of them trying to one-up the other with a funny or ridiculous adventure they’d had. Pope was trying to explain a crazy surf trip he’d gone on when Cleo interrupted with a tale about the time they tried to sneak onto a yacht.
John B. and Sarah, meanwhile, were talking quietly, their words more intimate now, less about the adventure and more about what the future might hold. Sarah rested her chin on John B.’s shoulder, her eyes bright as she spoke about a trip she wanted to take to a quiet place somewhere far away. John B. smiled, nodding. “We’ll go anywhere you want. Just you and me, Sarah Cameron.”
There was something about the way he said it—so sure of them, so sure of the future—that made Sarah’s heart flutter. She kissed his cheek softly, whispering back, “I’m in. Anywhere with you.”
As the clock ticked toward midnight, they all moved back inside, huddling up on the couch, the fire still burning low. JJ grabbed his guitar again, his fingers moving expertly over the strings as Alora leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“I was hoping you'd play something,” she said, a teasing sparkle in her eyes.
“Of course. What’s Christmas without a little music?” JJ joked, but there was a warmth in his voice, one that Alora recognized instantly. She loved how much he cared about the little moments—how he wanted everyone to feel something special, even if he wasn’t great at showing it.
The others joined in, sitting cross-legged on the floor or lounging on the couch, as JJ strummed out a soft melody. The room was filled with a peaceful kind of energy, the kind that made you realize that this—this ragtag group of friends who had been through hell and back—was all they needed. They didn’t have fancy gifts, they didn’t have big plans. What they had was each other.
JJ started to sing, his voice rough but real, and Alora joined in, her voice steady and clear. Slowly, the others added their voices, blending together in a strange but perfect harmony. Pope sang a little too loudly, Cleo laughed at him, but it only made it better. Sarah’s voice was soft but carried a quiet strength, while John B.’s was right there with hers.
And for a moment, everything else faded away. There were no worries, no unfinished business, just the warmth of friendship and love surrounding them.
When the song ended, there was a comfortable silence, one where no one felt the need to fill the space with anything else. JJ put the guitar down, his eyes glinting with that playful energy again. “Well, I think that was a solid 10 out of 10 performance,” he said with a grin, making everyone laugh.
Alora smiled at him, her heart full. “You never change, do you?”
JJ shrugged, his grin still wide. “Nope. And neither do you.”
They all settled back in for the night, the fire slowly dying down, the sound of laughter and soft conversations filling the air. It wasn’t about the big moments or the flashy gifts. It was about these small, quiet moments together.
And in that moment, they all knew this was the best kind of Christmas.