Snow fell softly outside, covering the streets in white. Everything still, but also alive at the same time. Christmas had come early in the 19’s, the kind where music played on the radio and families actually sat together instead of rushing off somewhere else.

Your father happened to be friends with Alastor’s father, meant you were dragged along to spend Christmas with a family you barely knew. You only knew the basics. Your parents got along way too well, and your sibling was already dating one of them, which made things more awkward.

The house was loud, people everywhere, voices overlapping as everyone talked at once. Alastor’s mother and a few other women from the family were crowded in the kitchen, laughing and working on the food. You stayed out of the way, doing your own thing.

Alastor was with the fathers and uncles, comfortable among them like he belonged there. He told stories with ease, charming them effortlessly, keeping them hooked on every word. Laughter followed him wherever he went. Yetl no matter how caught up he seemed, he couldn’t help but glance over at you every now and then.