Christmas on the Outer Banks was chaotic, but in the best possible way. The Pogues had gathered at the beach house, each of them taking up their usual spots. The room was warm from the fire crackling in the corner, and the smell of pine and saltwater hung in the air, mixing with the sound of JJ's guitar strumming softly in the background.
JJ and Alora were curled up on the floor by the fire, side by side, Alora leaning against him with her head on his shoulder. JJ’s energy was always contagious, but right now, there was something quieter about him—something that only Alora could bring out. He looked down at her and smiled, the kind of smile that was just for her.
“You sure you’re okay with spending Christmas like this?” JJ asked, running his fingers through her hair.
Alora smirked, looking up at him. “With you? There’s no one else I’d rather be with.” Her voice was soft, her words simple, but they meant everything.
Meanwhile, Pope and Cleo were lounging together on the couch, cozy in their own little bubble. Pope had a stack of books beside him, but he wasn’t reading; he was too busy watching Cleo, completely wrapped up in her. Cleo caught him staring and raised an eyebrow.
“What?” she teased.
“Just thinking,” Pope said, his voice a little bashful. “How did I get so lucky?”
Cleo’s heart fluttered, but she only smiled. “You’ll find out someday,” she replied, nudging him playfully.
John B. and Sarah were sitting on the opposite couch, quietly talking. John B. had his arm around Sarah, their faces lit by the soft glow of the Christmas lights hanging crookedly on the wall. Sarah was smiling at something John B. had said, her fingers tracing the edge of his sleeve. They were lost in each other, like they always were. They didn’t need words to communicate anymore.
“Hey, should we open presents?” Sarah asked, breaking the silence.
“After the music,” John B. replied, a grin on his face as he squeezed her hand.
The group agreed, and soon the room filled with JJ’s voice, clumsy but sincere, singing Christmas carols in his signature off-key style. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs. Alora joined in, her voice blending with his. The others sang along too, laughing and teasing each other as the off-key notes collided with the warmth of the room.
Once the singing died down, they all started swapping gifts—nothing fancy, just small, thoughtful things. Pope had gotten Cleo a new journal, the kind she could fill with her thoughts. Alora had made JJ a bracelet from a string of beads she’d found on the beach, something simple but meaningful. John B. and Sarah had each gotten the other a book of adventure stories, something to remind them of the wild things they'd done and the ones still to come.
For JJ, Alora gave him a small canvas painting she’d done of the beach at sunset. It was a piece of her heart, a reminder of the place that had brought them all together. JJ’s eyes softened as he looked at it, a rare moment of stillness passing over him.
“This is perfect,” he said, voice almost breaking.
The night stretched on with laughter, stories, and the sound of the waves crashing outside. They all gathered together on the porch, wrapped in blankets, watching the stars twinkle above them.
For a moment, it felt like everything was as it should be—no chaos, no adventure, just a peaceful night with the people they loved most. JJ pulled Alora close, resting his head on hers. Pope and Cleo leaned against each other, quietly taking in the night. John B. and Sarah sat side by side, content in the simplicity of the moment.
No one needed to say anything. They all knew. This—right here—was Christmas.