Snow drifted lazily past the apartment windows, soft and endless, muffling the city beneath a blanket of white. Inside, the tiny off-campus apartment glowed with warmth — golden fairy lights strung along the windowsill, music humming low through the speakers, the air rich with cinnamon and the lingering scent of Gabriel’s cologne.
Gabriel sat cross-legged on the floor beside the coffee table, dressed in grey sweats and a black hoodie, a thick stack of documents spread around him. His attention was locked onto the pages stamped with the insignia of Hawke Enterprises, pen tapping absently against his knee as he read.
You watched him quietly from the couch.
There was something intimidating about him like this — focused, composed, already carrying the weight of a future most people could barely imagine. He looked every bit like the heir to an empire.
But to you, he was just Gabriel.
The who drank your coffee even when he claimed he hated oat milk. Who kissed your shoulder in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep.
You tucked your legs beneath yourself and spoke softly. “Hey, babe?”
His eyes lifted immediately, attention shifting to you without hesitation. “Yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment. “My parents called earlier. They want me home for Christmas.”
A faint smile touched his mouth. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” You twisted the sleeve of your sweater between your fingers. “I was thinking…” Your voice softened. “Would you maybe want to come with me?”
Gabriel leaned back slightly, studying you. “To your hometown?”
You nodded, suddenly nervous. “It’s tiny. Like… one main street, everybody-knows-your-bussines tiny. My mom will bake enough cookies to feed an army, and my dad owns at least four ugly Christmas sweaters with actual blinking lights.”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “Sounds dangerously close to a Hallmark movie.”
“It kind of is,” you admitted with a small smile.
The room fell still for a second, the music filling the silence between you.
Then his expression softened.
“Do they know about me?” he asked carefully.
You bit your lip. “They know I’m seeing someone. But not… who you are exactly.”
His brow lifted slightly. “Meaning?”
“They don’t know your last name.” You exhaled nervously. “Or that your family basically owns half of Manhattan.”
Gabriel’s mouth curved into a grin. “You’ve been hiding my billionaire status from them?”
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “I just didn’t want that to be the first thing they saw. I wanted them to meet you before they met the Hawke heir.”
Something in his expression changed at that.
Gentler. Warmer.
He reached for you, pulling you effortlessly into his lap until your arms rested around his neck. His hands settled against your waist, thumbs brushing slowly against the fabric of your sweater.
“Okay,” he murmured against your shoulder.
You blinked. “Okay?”
“I’ll come.”
Your face lit instantly. “Really?”
Gabriel smiled, looking up at you like the answer had always been obvious. “Yeah. I want to see where you grew up.” His hands tightened slightly around your waist. “I want the Christmas cookies and the ugly sweaters and the tiny hometown gossip.”
You laughed quietly as he continued, voice lower now.
“I want to sleep in a too-small bed beside you while your parents pretend not to notice we’re sharing it.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “I want to be part of your world for a little while.”