GRAND WINNER

December 25th, 1995

Dear Diary,

"Merry Christmas, I guess." That's what I said last year. Not having any tree to gather around, or any family to gather with, the 25th has never struck me as anything special.

The sun had just settled, and the street had truly become a spectacle to behold. Christmas lights warmly lit the homes and trees over which they were delicately draped, embracing the town in their soft golden glow. Hanging from every other street lamp, mistletoe silently reminded all lovesick folk below that they still had a chance. Songs hummed from shop windows. The sweet-spicy scent of cinnamon and the subtle resinous fragrance of evergreen, which weaved through the festive street, were reminiscent of those comfortable Christmases that had long since passed.

People are always insisting that there's something indescribably wonderful about today, but to me...

On a quest for some hot cocoa, a nineteen-year-old girl, enveloped comfortably in woolen clothes, paced along the quiet yet convivial street. She regarded the scenery with contempt, her huffs turning the air foggy.

Snow had just started to fall, feathery flakes tiptoeing across the darkening sky. The teenager raised her shoulders and crossed her arms in an attempt to stave off the biting cold. Stepping into a humble café, the blonde sighed with relief. Toasty air and sweet scents greeted her, as did her best friend.

...it's just another normal day on the calendar.

"Hi, Jeannette!" Isabelle, a curly-haired teen, waved from behind the counter. "Here for some hot cocoa?"

A smile lit up Jeannette's face. "Yup! Just like every Christmas."

But this Christmas, things were different, and I found myself agreeing with those people...

"Okay! Gotta run though... I might've destroyed the coffee-maker." After a hesitant giggle escape her, the brunette rushed into the kitchen.

Jeannette's green eyes shone with silent amusement before they scanned the room for a seat, surprised to find another teen out on Christmas day. He seemed quite intent on his sketchbook, biting his lip rather cutely as his pencil hovered with uncertainty above the paper.

...when I met him.

"Hi! I'm Jeannette."

The stranger barely looked up, replying shortly, "Gabriel."

He's probably just shy. Jeannette slipped into a nearby chair, starting with a simple question. "So... you draw?"

    "Well, it sure does seem that way, doesn't it?"

    Flustered by the blunt, sarcastic response, the girl dumbly stared at the blond teen, who simply continued sketching. His hair was wild and untamed, only further accentuating his jawline, which was captivating in it's own, angular right.

    "I-I..." she sputtered, unable to muster enough courage to call the attractive teenager out on his curt behavior, and instead asked, "Well, w-what are you drawing?" She leaned forward to glance at the sketchpad, accidentally knocking his beverage over. The black coffee soaked into the pages and stained Gabriel's turtleneck sweater. The girl flinched at her catastrophic handiwork. "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! S—"

    Gabriel had finally looked up from his work and Jeannette's breath suddenly hitched in her throat as his eyes met hers. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. The icy-blue pierced her heart like an arrow, and she couldn't look away. They were overwhelmingly alluring. The enthralled blonde suppressed a shiver, a new, unidentifiable emotion fluttering through her.

    "Well," Gabriel began, rudely waking her from her trance. "I was coming up with a clothing design."

    "I'm sorry," she repeated meekly before gathering a hoard of napkins. Gabriel stood up as well to help her mop up the spill. In a mess of thoughts, Jeannette wasn't entirely present, her mind lingering in the memory of his steely glare. Her green gaze wandered over to the handsome teenager, admiring his perfect features before she unintentionally murmured her thoughts aloud, "And people say guys don't look good in turtlenecks."

"What?"

Not expecting a question or any sort of reply, Jeannette blinked, her cheeks collecting color. "I-I said that out loud, didn't I?" With that adorable smirk skewed on his face, she already knew the answer. She turned and vigorously swiped the already mostly-clean table in a pitiful attempt to mask her obvious embarrassment.

"Well. It was nice meeting you, Jeannette." Gabriel grinned, satchel in hand.

At the sudden farewell, Jeannette glanced up to ask him to stay, opening her mouth only to wordlessly gawk at his perfect smile. Just when I thought he couldn't be any more hot. Quickly recollecting herself, she wished him a Merry Christmas and mutely watched him leave.

Discarding the sloppy wad of napkins, the golden-haired girl slumped into her chair and tiredly eyed the now spotless table.

"Here's your cocoa... woah!" Isabelle finally arrived with her bestie's order. The table was shiny and reflective, meriting a gasp from the brunette. "How did you clean the table so well?" She gingerly placed the hot beverage on the surface, the warm aroma wreathing around the café. "Anyways, how was your chat with that guy, Jean Bean?"

"I love him."

Her friend backed away. "Maybe you're being a bit aggressive..."

"You don't understand... he's smart and hot and adorable and..."

"You talked to him for five minutes," Isabelle stated.

The valid reason fell on deaf ears as the blonde continued dreamily, "...and artistic... and hot." She smiled sheepishly. "Yup, especially hot."

"You're crazy." Her bestie snickered. "Anyways," she went on, "isn't this his?"

Jeannette directed a semi-attentive glimpse at the marred collection of designs. "Yup!" The lovesick teenager nodded happily.

At the simple response, Isabelle let her eyelids droop, unimpressed with her friend's stupidity. "And so... you're just leaving this here?"

"Yeah..? Why?" Genuinely confused, the blonde tilted her head. "Why would— Oh!" Suddenly understanding, she hopped to her feet and scooped up the pad. "He forgot his sketchbook! I gotta return this to him!"

Rolling her hazel eyes, Isabelle muttered sarcastically, "Nice work, Sherlock."

"Merry Christmas, Isa!" the teen called out as she bolted out the door and was instantly welcomed by the jolly street.

A delicate stillness had overcome the city, which was tucked under a thin sheet of snow. The scene was soothing, but the blonde's eyes darted madly to and fro, seeking Gabriel. Her green gaze finally locked onto him quite a distance away. Determined, Jeannette began jogging.

The bit of uneasiness in her grew exponentially as she got closer and closer. It was like there were butterflies in her stomach, just waiting to break out. So she slowed to a walk. Being a fair amount of paces behind her crush, the girl dawdled and maintained the distance as she wondered how she should to talk to him, her grip nervously tightening on the book. She mentally conducted a mini conversation, adding little remarks for herself on how to improve.

"Hi, Gabriel!" Wait, I should try to be more forward. "Hey, hot stuff!" Ah! No, no, no. Nope! Maybe I should give him a nickname? That way I'm not too forward. "Hey, Gabe!" It isn't cute enough. Let's see... What rhymes with Gabe?...Babe. Gabe babe... Jeannette's ears went ablaze as she screamed internally. Ahhh! Let's... not... say that... Gabe is nice enough anyway. Swallowing nervously, she tried again. "Hi, Gabe! You left this in the café." The blonde encouraged herself with a nod. Good. Now all I have to do is— ah!

She whisked around as Gabriel's head began to turn towards her, finding herself looking into a decorated shop window. At first blinded by some embellishing lights, her emerald eyes eventually focused on a snow globe. In it, two miniature figurines, both blond, embraced each other in a kiss. Above them, mistletoe hung at the peak of the glass orb. Jeannette's cheeks flushed with red as she mused about Gabriel. Carefully, she stole a peek at the tall teen. He had started walking again, and the restless blonde followed. It shouldn't be this difficult to talk to a person! A few footsteps later, she contemplated about whether what she was doing qualified as stalking or not. I'm just trying to return this sketchbook... without talking to him... She shook her head stubbornly, fluffy flakes of snow falling from her hair. All that I'm doing is following him. Right? I mean, he doesn't know that I am... Abruptly acquiescing to the seeming truth of the situation, Jeannette narrowed her eyes in cold amusement. "How did you spend your Christmas?" "Oh, you know, I stalked this guy."

Feeling disgusted with herself, she felt it was time to approach him. But talking to him seems... scary... No, I am going to return this... Now. Like right now. She bit her lip, overwrought. Soon.

A while passed, and Gabriel strode around a corner. Jeannette firmly decided to talk to him after she had caught up. Okay. I got this. "Hi, Gabe! I thought I'd return this to you." She went over the lines a couple of times, preparing herself. She hurried along the bend, only to bump into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't—" She choked up as she recognized the handsome gentleman. Hurriedly recovering, Jeannette recited her lines as best as she could. "Hi, babe! I thought I'd return to you!" She stuck the sketchpad out awkwardly.

A knowing simper stretched across Gabriel's face. "What?"

Her arms still held forward, Jeannette felt her face heat up, mortified. The cold was no longer a problem. "I-I... that... w-well..."

Amused by her struggle, he raised his eyebrows but remained quiet.

"The... this..," she struggled for words, almost ready to cry. "Y-you... youleftthisandI—"

She was cut short as she noticed the teen was pointing up at something. She glanced upward, spotting mistletoe. Next thing she knew his soft lips were on hers.

Shocked, Jeannette dropped the sketches. The girl's heart throbbed against her ribcage, but she soon relaxed, closing her green eyes.

The snow delicately descended from the night sky, and the streetlamp illuminated the two as they indulged in the sweet kiss.

After a few long seconds, and much to her disappointment, Gabriel broke away from Jeannette.

"I know you were following me."

"I-It's n-not like that!" Jeannette stammered softly, the tingling in her lips affecting her speech.

He smirked again. "It's exactly like that."

"I was just trying to..." She trailed off, reaching down to pick up the sketchbook.

Gabriel kneeled down as well, trying to help her. The nineteen-year-olds ended up knocking heads. After a murmur of apology, he retrieved the sketchpad. As they got up, Gabriel cast his crystal blue gaze on her.

"I guess I have a girlfriend now."

So, that's how I got my first kiss... and boyfriend, I guess. Belle was so shocked when I told her, claiming that we were both insane. And maybe we are.

Strangely enough, we're going to a fashion show for our first date. He insisted. He seems rather passionate about it—I could see it in his eyes.

Well, I guess that was all. It has really been a Miraculous Christmas.

I'll let you know what happens!

_-~❄~-_

December 25th, 2016

Dear Diary,

Today marks the anniversary of when I left my husband and son. I know I haven't written anything for about twenty years...

The blonde slouched tiredly on a couch, heavily staring down at the diary, which was held in quivering hands. She convulsed with silent sobs, and the yellowed pages blurred, but she stubbornly brought the pen back to the paper.

...but I guess I wanted someone to know how regretful I feel...

Tears splattered onto the fresh ink as she squeezed her eyes shut. With a sniffle, the woman swept her knuckles across her eyelids harshly, and then painfully scrawled the last few words.

Merry Christmas, I guess.