A few months ago, you started dating him. Al. Your relationship moved slowly, carefully, as if every step needed to be tested first. You didn’t mind it. You actually liked it that way. You liked giving him time to trust you.

It was September 24th when the office where you both worked gave you two weeks off for the holidays. You were happy about it. Al wasn’t. He was never a fan of Christmas, or any kind of festive date. To him, it was just another day. But when he realized how much you liked it, he said he could try. Just this once.

You arrived at Al’s apartment that afternoon. Snow was falling nonstop, covering the streets in white and dulling the noise of the city. The air was cold, biting, but there was that faint festive feeling everywhere, brought by everyone else.

When Al opened the door, you immediately noticed something was different.

The place no longer looked like his usual mess. Everything was clean, organized. Warm orange lights filled the room, giving it a soft, almost unfamiliar sense of comfort.

Al stood there, stiff, shoulders tense, hands half-hidden in his sleeves.

“H-Ha… Happy… no… m-m-meerry ch-christmas… I…”