☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

°•. ┊ Daylight┊.•°
✧ ˚ ━ we're the new romantics, act one

— epilogue

✧

It's Christmas Eve and I'm helping Max put the finishing touches on the tree, while the radio plays festive music. "Sam! Phone!" My mom shouts from the kitchen. I put down the ornament in my hand and move over to the end table, lifting the phone from the hook.

Hello?

Hey, doll.

Oh, hi. What's up?

Nothing, just making sure that we're still on for later.

Yeah, I'll be over at seven. We'll exchange gifts, watch a movie and then I have to come back here before everyone wakes up. So we can all suffer through family time together.

You're saying that all I have to do is get you home before like first light? That's the only parameters for tonight? Good to know.

You're cute. Listen, I gotta go. Max just picked up the tinsel and she likes to clump it on the tree and make it look awful. I'll see you at seven.

Okay, bye.

When we finish decorating the tree, then the two of us proceed to the kitchen to decorate cookies with our mom; a staple in the Mayfield house. "So, Sam, how are things with Steve?" My mom asks, reaching for the red frosting.

"They're good."

"Just good?"

"Okay, they're really good. He's amazing." I gush, adding too many sprinkles to my second cookie. "I know that I don't have a curfew, but I feel that I should ask; can I stay at his place tonight? I'll be back before anyone else wakes up and-"

"That's fine."

"Really?" Max and I question simultaneously.

"Yeah, I trust you. And it's not like you haven't been out all night before. I assume that some of those nights have been spent at his house. And if you're home in time for presents, that's what matters." She explains. Max moves next to me and takes a finger full of frosting, swiping it across my cheek. She and my mom begin to laugh, so I smoosh a cookie into my sister's forehead and use my other hand to get a big glob of icing, smearing it over my mom's face, which leads to a massive food fight. We spend a couple hours making an absolute mess of the kitchen and then finishing the cookies. I take a shower and get dressed, before saying my goodbyes and getting in my car.

I enter the Harrington house and festive music fills my ears, the smell of cookies slapping me in the face. "Are you baking?" I ask, loudly, while setting Steve's gifts and my bag on the floor next to me. Steve appears at the top of the stairs wearing a Santa hat and a horrible sweater.

"Why yes, Doll Face, yes I am."

"I didn't know you could do that."

"It's easy. You just break up the dough and follow the directions."

"Oh. That makes a lot more sense." I laugh. "I thought you made them from scratch. Clearly, I forgot who I'm dating."

"I could totally bake from scratch." He argues. "And I'm gonna prove it. Just not tonight because we have other things to do. But soon though. I promise you that."

"Whatever you say." I wrap my arms around his torso and he places a kiss on my lips. "That sweater is awful. And I think you need to get the cookies before they burn."

"Yeah." He runs to the kitchen and I follow closely behind, watching him pull partially burnt sweets out of the oven. "Shit. Well this isn't helping my case." He drops the pan on the stove and places his hands on his hips, assessing the deserts.

"I've eaten my weight in cookies and frosting today. I appreciate the gesture, but I will bring you some of my mom's sugar cookies, decorated by yours truly, tomorrow." I offer, taking his hand and taking him back into the living room. "What do you want to do first? Movie? Take-out? Or presents?"

"Change into sweats, presents, then order take-out and start the movie, while we wait." I grab my stuff and we go up to his room. "I'll take the bathroom, just knock when you're done."

"You don't have to. I mean, I'm not naked under here." I laugh slightly, unsure of my own words. I unbutton my jeans, moving them down my legs, stepping out of them and removing my jacket and pulling my shirt over my head. I look down, quickly realizing that my underwear does not match my bra.

"Is this my gift? 'Cause if so, this is my best Christmas yet." He smiles.

"Shut up." I laugh, looking down, before returning my gaze on him. Steve walks over to me, pushing my hair behind my ears, and attaching his lips to mine. When we part, he turns to his closet and hands me one of his shirts. "I don't know whether to feel offended or proud." I slip his shirt over my head and walk over to get his actual presents. In complete honesty, I was lost on what to get him. I'm a sentimental gift person, homemade or just very personal, and I couldn't think of anything for Steve. I asked Dustin and even Nancy, but came up short. So, I made him a mixtape. That's my personal gift and the other is a new pair of sneakers because his favorites were trashed after the run in with the tunnels. He opens the sneakers first and likes them. I figured he would because they are the exact same as his old ones. The only thing that surprises me is that I got the sizing right. He goes to open the next one, but I stop him. "Okay, so this one is one of those gifts where even if you hate it, you pretend to like it. It's corny, but I am incapable of not giving some sort of heartfelt- I'm gonna stop talking now."

"A mixtape?" He questions, with a tone I can't quite place.

"Yeah. It's got the list inside. The first song is the one we danced to on the night of the SnowBall." I explain. "And the rest are just songs that remind me of you and us."

"I love it. Really. And no I'm not just pretending to like it. I needed a new tape for my car and now I've got a great one."

"You haven't even listened to it, yet."

"So what? I like your taste in music, so I know it's gonna be good." He speaks. "Now, it's your turn." Steve hands me two smaller boxes wrapped beautifully. I take them from his hands, opening the bottom one first. when the box is revealed, it's a teal color and the word 'Tiffany's' is written across it.

"Harrington." I state. "Take it back."

"No. It's a gift. so you're gonna shut up, accept it and you're gonna like it." He commands. I huff and proceed to take the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful, silver necklace with a pendant. "It's a firefly, Firefly.'' he smiles. I look up at the boy and heat rises to my face, a smile forming.

"Steve, I love it." I say. He removes the necklace from my hands and gestures for me to turn around. I spin and lift my hair out of the way, allowing the boy to place the jewelry around my neck, clasping it.

"Now open this one." He hands me the second box, excitement emanating from the boy. I unwrap it, revealing a black, velvet box. I lift open the lid to find a set of rings; one with purple gems around the entire band, a gold band with a butterfly, and a gold ring with writing on it. As I it out, it says 'fuck off' on it, making me smile. "Do you like them?"

"Of course I like them, they're gorgeous." I breathe. "But this is too much. The necklace was one thing, but rings? I can't." I shove the box in his direction.

"Yes, you can. If you don't take it now, I'll just find another way to give it to you." He speaks. He lifts the item out of its box and takes my right hand in his. "It was between 'fuck off' and one that just said 'bitchin' so I went with the first one. Now I don't know anything about jewelry, so I let the lady at the store guide me and she asked me about things that were important to us and whether you preferred silver or gold, and I wasn't sure. She used her best judgment. Plus, in my opinion they're all really nice and-" I pressed my lips to his, cutting off his rambling. He's caught off guard, but quickly reacts and moves his hands to my waist. The moment escalates and some enough, he's walking me backwards, my legs hitting the end of his bed, before our bodies fall onto the mattress. my hands are running through his hair, then travel down tugging on the hem of his shirt. Steve pulls away and starts to remove the item of clothing, but halts his actions, encompassing my face in his hands. "Are you sure?" He questions, his eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt.

"I'm sure." I respond, resting my forehead on his. "I want this, Steve. I want you." and that's all it took for the boy to remove his shirt and crash his lips against mine, hungrily...

It's been one hell of a holiday.

[word count: 1581]

lexi's letters; merry christmas indeed-