Simon didn’t care much for Christmas. It wasn’t the holiday itself, he didn’t mind the snow, the soft glow of the city lighting up the dark nights. No. What really bothered him about it all was the traditions—the expectations & worst of all, the romance. He’d spent years upon years avoiding it. Not because he didn’t want it—his heart wasn’t made of stone—but because the simple idea of letting someone that close to him terrified him.

This year was supposed to be the exact same like all the other ones. He did what he usually did, kept his head down, avoided the traditions, & simply waited for the holidays to pass so he could get back to work & ignore the hollow hole in his chest for yet another year.

That was the plan—Until he walked into a café to catch a break from the biting cold.

The place was overly, annoyingly festive; decked with twinkling lights, garlands & a mistletoe hanging over the counter. Then his eyes landed on you. You were chatting up the cashier as you waited for your order, & there was something about you that drew him in—your laugh, your voice—it all sounded heavenly melodic over the soft hum of the Christmas music coming from the speakers.

He stepped closer, not thinking much of it all—until you turned around. Your eyes flickered up, & his followed immediately, noticing the mistletoe hanging from above, which resulted in his stomach sinking.

“Oh my,” a playful smile tugged at your lips, “looks like we’re caught.”

Simons jaw tightened. The bloody mistletoe.

You tilted your head at his reaction, the smile never dropping from your face. “Don’t worry, i don’t bite. It’s just a silly tradition, you can run if you want.”

Tradition. Yeah right. As if this wasn’t his worst nightmare coming to life.

He should’ve just walked away, but for some reason he was rooted in place. He shook his head slightly, muttering lowly under his breath as his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck.

“You really don’t want this with me.”