(This is based completely off of a stupid meme I saw once, and then the idea spiraled from there.

Happy Holidays!)

Your eyes closed, headache thumping gently and making your teeth clench. Opening your eyes again only seemed to make your vision throb. At last you gave up, sliding out of your perch beside the window and making your way towards the kitchen. On some shelves at one end of the hanging cabinets, a variety of medicines were stored. Mostly basic stuff, like painkillers, allergy pills, and stuff for colds. The more important meds were in the bathroom, but those belonged to your roommate; you knew their purpose and didn't touch them. They were precious to her.

Grabbing the oversized bottle of painkillers you shook out two, paused, and then added another. Anything over three made you uncomfortable. The bottle was capped and set back on the high shelf, and you filled a glass with water to swallow the tablets down. You heaved a sigh before drinking the rest of the water, setting the glass back into the sink. You knew you probably should have eaten something along with the painkillers, but you walked back out of the kitchen to flop onto the sofa instead. To hell with your liver.

Arm thrown over your eyes to block the light, you seemed to have dozed off; the loud crash of the front door being opened made you flinch.

"Motherfucker!" she cried, hurrying inside and shutting the door behind her, having to push harder than normal: the wind was gusting and bringing the snow in quickly. Door locked tight she shivered violently, pulling off the heavy layers of wool and cotton, hanging everything up on the hooks nearby. Her cheeks were bright pink but she looked happy; cold weather was her favorite. "Roads are a fucking bitch right now, I swear to God as soon as one snowflake falls everyone starts driving with their asscheeks." Giggling she lifted the numerous shopping bags she had brought in with her.

It took every ounce of willpower not to groan out loud. This was the first Christmas away from toxic family members, for the both of you. You'd moved thousands of miles away, gotten a decent sized apartment- duplex, really- and found surprisingly good jobs. And your roommate wanted to celebrate, having planned a small Christmas party, inviting a few friends she knew in the area.

The bags held decorations; the bright red garland was poking out of the top of one bag, and all of them looked thoroughly stuffed. But she lowered everything slowly, eyeing you with a soft expression. "Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry," she murmured.

You waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine. I had to take something for my headache; I dozed off. It's gone now, though." You slid off of the couch and approached, looking down at all of her purchases and laughing. "I thought you said it was gonna be a "small party"? I think you bought half the store."

"Well, I mean..." With a sly grin she pulled a box out of the largest bag. "We need a Christmas tree. It's not huge cause... they were sold out and I'm not strong enough to lug around a seven-foot monster." But her grin softened a good deal, eyes shining. "Are you gonna help me decorate? Please?"

"Do I have a choice?" you replied jokingly.

"That depends on if you trust me enough to decorate the place and not just throw all the pretty stuff everywhere and hope it doesn't make our eyes bleed."

Snorting, you took several of the shopping bags, the pair of you carrying everything to the kitchen table. "Christmas music makes our ears bleed, so might as well make our eyes match."

◇○◇○◇

To be honest, decorating the place took longer than it should have. You were pretty certain your roommate had a touch of ADD; distractions came easily and frequently. But two solid afternoons of work and the apartment sparkled with lights, garland, and other assorted bits. Which ended up being just in time, considering the party was being thrown in about two hours.

Hands on your hips, you were staring at the open cupboards and lamenting the lack of suitable party food. And the lack of generally acceptable food. But there was a smile on her face, laying a hand on your shoulder. "I asked everyone to bring food and drinks, don't worry. All I had to provide was space; we have the biggest apartment to have a party in, anyways." She was already dressed, nothing too obviously holiday-themed but a lovely red blouse and black pants and shoes. "Go and get ready, I'm gonna make sure everyone is actually showing up," she added, laughing softly. She pulled her phone out and promptly tuned everything else out; knowing her, she made a group chat, wanting everyone to be on the same page.

You on the other hand meandered to your bedroom; you had showered earlier that morning, but you guessed that pajama pants and a hoodie weren't "acceptable" party clothes. But you ended up staring at your closet in slight dismay and deep hopelessness; was there a fucking point in dressing up?

When you did not return soon, your roommate poked her head in the doorway. Her smile was wide. "I know that look in your eye. Wear something cute; it's not gonna be a vagina-fest tonight. I invited a couple of guys, and one of them said he might bring one of his friends. Said something about the guy being from overseas, I don't know. He might tag along, he might not. But look cute anyways, okay?"

"Thanks for giving me a choice..." you muttered under your breath as she vanished again. Sighing heavily you ended up settling on something similar to her own outfit choices: black pants and shoes. But the top was lovely, a vibrant green with a gentle sort of fabric that seemed to offer an almost ethereal vibe.

As soon as you sat down to attempt a bit of makeup, there was a knock at the front door. You swiftly shut your bedroom door and locked it; how fucking late had it gotten?! But it made sense that the others would show early; if they were bringing all the food and drinks, setup was necessary.

You could hear some voices trailing from the living room; most you recognized. There was one tone in particular that made you chuckle; of course Mark would have been invited. He had known your roommate for at least a decade; his career was wildly successful but you honestly didn't pay much attention to shit like it. You mostly cared about the fact that he was kind and really fucking entertaining, his low voice and hearty laugh carrying through the building easily. It sounded like there were about half a dozen guests, you and your roomie not included.

Most of the voices you did recognize- mostly- but they all sort of blended together anyways.

A slight frown lined your features. The guests were there to celebrate the holiday, sure, but... they were more your roommate's guests than your own. You only knew Mark, and that was a very loose explanation.

Still, holing yourself up in your room would do you no good, so you slid into a pair of shoes before finally emerging. Everyone was sitting down, the kitchen table chairs having been brought to the living room to accommodate the extra bodies. Everyone looked up as you came downstairs, and the sensation of a half dozen pairs of eyes boring into your soul gave you the chills.

Managing a smile, you mumbled some sort of greeting and hurriedly continued on towards the kitchen. Only then did you release the breath you didn't know you were holding. Out of sight of people you could hardly call acquaintances, your body seemed to settle down a good deal, your eyes closed in the middle of the kitchen.

"Little overwhelming, isn't it?"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and you squeaked in your fright, flinching badly, eyes opening in an instant.

He didn't seem to take offense, standing by the window. One hand in his pocket, the other held a drink, which he sipped at in the following silence. He smiled a tiny bit, eyes watching you from behind his glasses. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you or anything. That's what I get for just standing by myself like a moron and avoiding the party," he admitted, chuckling softly.

Blinking a touch, you took a moment to yourself to calm your racing heart, finally shifting your weight a bit. "N-no, uh, it's... it's okay. I just flinch easily. I ran in here and didn't even see you standing there, so I'm sorry."

Humming in acknowledgement he scratched his scruffy cheek before carefully approaching you, the same hand outstretched. "Seán," he replied, smiling. You gently took the offered hand, shaking it and giving the stranger your own name. "Don't worry about it," he added, "I'm kind of in here avoiding the whole thing too. I don't actually know anybody except for Mark, and he brought me with him so I wasn't just sitting at his place spending Christmas Eve with his dog."

So he was the one mentioned, the one from overseas? There was definitely an accent in his speech, but it wasn't any sort of dialect that seemed familiar. "Where are you from?" you asked softly, meandering towards where the drinks had been gathered; you didn't know if you were thirsty, but you felt like you needed to occupy your hands.

"Ah, born in Ireland, but I'm livin' in the UK right now," he answered, watching you but not really meaning to stare. As a result his gaze wandered and ended up pointed at the ceiling. He snorted and laughed. "Why is there a fuckin' electrical outlet up there?"

Looking up you shrugged and managed a laugh of your own. "Honestly, we never figured that out. I mean, it works just fine. But... there's no real use for it, unless I decided to use the vacuum, maybe..."

"On a hardwood floor?" Seán grinned, still eyeing the oddity of a random outlet above his head. "I wonder if I could charge my phone. Just plug it in and let it hang."

"With phones these days, it'll fall and break, most likely. They're so damn heavy."

"And iPhones aren't exactly, uh... strong. Look at 'em wrong and the screen cracks cause it felt like it." Amidst the small talk he had stepped closer, but only to top off his drink. There was a pause, the two of you just standing beside the laden table, trying to keep a conversation going to avoid the awkwardness. "... sorry," he finally muttered, blue eyes cast down and away. "Not so good with small talk, and I already feel like an ass for hiding in the kitchen."

"Well..." you mumbled in thought, "I'm kind of hiding too. And I live here. My roomie was the one that invited some people, I just helped her decorate the place. I only know Mark too, and that's overkill. I don't think I've said a hundred words to the guy." So you offered a smile that you hoped might cheer him up, even reaching and squeezing his shoulder. It felt solid beneath the pale sweater he wore, like he took good care of himself but masked it under the heavy fabric.

Seán looked back up at you again, this time intentionally watching. "Well, small talk is bullshit." He looked back at the pair of stools situated at the small island. "You wanna sit down and keep me company? We can skip the small talk and ask questions that actually have meaning or something."

The pair of you went to sit, but he was the gentleman and pulled your stool out so you could sit before situating himself in the other. Facing the large window, there hung no curtains to block the view outside. The night sky was dark and yet illuminated, in that strange orange-purple shade that was only seen in the winter. Snow fell slowly, but in thick flakes of the stuff; it was piling steadly but made for a very pretty picture. Christmas lights and decorations on the surrounding houses offered a splash of color against the snowscape.

"You know..." you finally broke the silence. "The older you get, the less magical the holidays become. I mean, when you're a kid, you get excited. Presents, decorations, the possibility of some jolly fat man that visits once a year if you're good... you see all your family and you're just surrounded by love and happiness. Even if it's only for a few hours. Then you get older, you learn that all those happy memories were forced and your family was putting on a facade in front of the kids. So you move away and try to live your life, sometimes end up working during the holidays, and the magic is just... gone."

You didn't mean for it to come out so damn depressing, but if the mood was going sour, Seán didn't bring it up. He listened to your words closely, watching as you instead focused on the falling snow outside. "I don't think holiday memories were forced; I think the holidays just seem to bring out certain qualities in people that they lose during the everyday."

That made you look back over at him. "Maybe. I... fuck. I opened up a can of worms on you, I'm sorry."

He shrugged and drank from the glass in front of him. "Christmas doesn't make everyone happy. I'm sorry your family turned out shitty. But you're away from them now, right? You decorated your place and wanted to invite people over; holidays can be just as magical with friends, too."

Cracking a smile, you returned the shrug. "Sure, except I'm hiding in the kitchen away from the real party. I'm not being a very good hostess."

There was a pause. "You're keeping me company. I'm in a foreign country, as a guest of one of my closest friends. He didn't want me being a mopey bitch baby, so he brought me to a Christmas get-together. And I'm not being ignored, so... I'm enjoying myself."

His words seemed to put you at ease, and the smile felt more natural. "Mm, I do sort of wish we had more space. Invite a few more, play some music and keep some nice conversations going. Maybe do some silly gift exchange, swap Christmas stories... cheesy crap like that."

"Good to know the family didn't crush your holiday spirit," Seán spoke gently. His expression was soft, watching you and hearing your words with clear admiration. His attention on you made your stomach flutter with butterflies the longer it went on. "Just cause we're old and cranky doesn't mean the holidays are any less magical. We just gotta dig a little deeper; we make the magic, it isn't made for us like when we were kids."

"I thought you weren't good with small talk," you commented, smirking.

He threw his head back and laughed. "This isn't small talk! Fuck. I'm trying to be meaningful and a fucking delightful guest to a pretty woman, let a man be cheesy!"

Blood flooded your cheeks, tinting them pink. "Seán, I'm not--"

A hand was held up to silence your protests. "Shush. You're pretty. More than that. Accept the compliment and move on with your life."

You snorted, sighed, and drained your drink before getting up to get the both of you a refill.

◇○◇○◇

Time passed unknowingly fast. Seán regaled you with stories of his own; he was heavily involved with YouTube like Mark, which was intriguing, but he spoke of Christmas memories instead. Perhaps he was right, the magic had to be made, but he seemed happy to provide some.

You ended up talking the entire time, drinking the variety of beverages that had been provided for the little potluck and just enjoying the company of someone else. The conversations, laughter, and general noise from the living room was all but ignored- though your bladder was a different story. You made a face of slight pain and heavy discomfort, sliding from the stool. "I'm sorry, but I need to use the bathroom so fucking bad. I'll be right back," you promised, making a beeline out of the kitchen once he nodded.

You were only gone for maybe three minutes, eager to continue talking with the foreign stranger. At least... he was a stranger, but Seán had turned out to be incredibly easy to talk to. It was like chatting with an old friend; the words and stories and humor came naturally, and your awkwardness from hours prior was forgotten. You felt mildly guilty about ignoring everyone else in his favor, but you would deal with those repercussions later on. For now, you just found yourself wanting his company.

Seán was handsome, sure, but he was also charming, funny and attentive. He seemed to be bursting with energy, and yet was perfectly content with just talking.

By the time you returned, he had gotten out of the seat he'd been occupying. Even more curious, he was... holding your toaster.

Blinking rapidly, you froze in the threshold to the kitchen, watching him carry the appliance and stare at the outlet on the ceiling. With some stretching and grunting, he plugged the thing in, slowly letting the toaster dangle overhead, barely swinging. His hands hovered nearby, in case it proved to be too heavy to hold itself in the air with only the plug keeping it from dropping.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you finally blurted out, both curious and a little exasperated. "The outlet does work. But, I mean, I could've grabbed a phone charger or.... something that won't crash on the floor."

Seán grinned at you, cautiously lowering his hands once he was convinced that the appliance would hold. "Yeah, but... what if we kissed under the mistletoaster?"

"... the... mistle-- Oh my god." You threw your head back and laughed harder than you had in a long time. "All that effort for a fucking pun?"

"Hey! It was brilliant!" His arms crossed defiantly, but soon he held out a hand for you. "Come on. Let me have this. It was too perfect, don't leave me hanging."

Your eyes watched your poor toaster just hanging from the ceiling. The longer it stayed there, the higher the chance of it falling. "Fine. But only because I needed that laugh."

That seemed to satisfy him, and you approached slowly, mindful of the heavy device overhead. Once you were within reach Seán pulled you in close, cupping your face and gifting you with a kiss that felt more romantic that you expected. It lasted probably a few seconds, but in those moments everything around you seemed to vanish; your attention was on him and him alone.

The kiss was broken, fairly reluctantly, and he reached to unplug the toaster and set it back on the counter. Then he grinned at you. "That's the first time a pun actually helped me out."

"Well, usually puns are horrible but that one was clever."

"You want horrible puns? Talk to Mark. Seán McLoughlin only provides the highest quality in humor and romance. So you just got two for the price of one."

"All right, Seán McLoughlin, I'll consider that as your payment for being invited to the party. That we both ended up avoiding, but still."

His grin widened, lighting up his eyes. "Does that mean I can ask for another kiss as a Christmas present?"

The color in your cheeks ended up darker than before. "You... want to kiss me again...?"

"Are you kidding? I got to spend the whole fuckin' party with a gorgeous woman, who let me kiss her after I made a terrible joke. I think I feel a little of that Christmas magic we were talking about before."