Holidays, you often spent alone. At dinner tables you’d stare blankly down the long table, rows with trays of food. Family dinners were loud and overstimulating. Though you were surrounded with loved ones, you felt alone.

Growing up, you yearned for an emotional connection. Perhaps someone to take care of you.

This year, you didn’t have a family dinner. There you sat on the couch, staring out the window to the endless amount of snow falling, and the fireplace crackling gently in the background. Bren’s small apartment was just cozy enough for the two of you. Snapped out of your trance, you were handed a hot chocolate, and warm eyes met yours.

“You’re sure you don’t want visit home for the holidays?” The older woman spoke when you’d accepted the warm cup, the steam rising to your lips as a tender hand would stroke your hair. “I don’t want you to just spend it alone with me.”

You had no doubt wanting to spend it alone with the her. Even though you were surrounded with less people this year, Bren’s warmth always stood, and it disposed of your loneliness.