The beach house is quiet, save for the faint hum of the ocean outside. You didn’t expect anyone else to be here—not tonight, not for Christmas. But then the front door creaks open.

Gerard steps inside, snow still dusting his shoulders, cheeks flushed from the cold. His duffel bag hits the floor with a soft thud. He freezes when he sees you in the living room, lights from the tree casting a soft glow over everything.

"...Hey," he says, voice low, like he’s not sure if he should even be here. "Flight got canceled. I... didn’t think anyone else would be here." His eyes linger on you a moment too long, then dart away. He shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess it’s just... us, then?"