Written for the Everlark Holiday Challenge on tumblr (prompts in panem)
I woke up that morning, Christmas morning, alone in my home. It was lonely, spending Christmas in District 12 while my family, my mother and Prim, were both in District 4. They had moved there when the newly built hospital there announced throughout the districts that they were hiring doctors and nurses. I had been invited to go with them, but at nineteen I could live alone easily. District 12 had always been my home, and held my dearest memories, held all my memories of my father, so I opted to stay. It was mornings like this, though, where I used to wake to my little sister excited to open her gifts, even as she got older, and my mother's homemade cookies for breakfast. The love between our family warming the house through the cold winter months, including that always oh so cold December morning. It was moments like this that made me wonder if I should've gone with them.
I crawled out of my bed, slowly as I was still tired. I decided to stay in my pyjamas, red plaid flannel bottoms and a white tank top. I went to my dresser and pulled out a pair of socks, slipping them onto my cold feet before grabbing a hoodie off the top of it and slipping that over my head, enjoying the warmth that the heavy sweater spread across my upper body. I didn't actually have any plans that day. My initial plan was to take the Christmas shift that no one wanted at work, but the bakery had decided to close for Christmas, so there was no working for me. By the time they announced that they were closing the bakery for the holiday, it was too late to get a train ticket anywhere, especially to District 4 since a lot of people went there to enjoy the beaches during the holidays. I was stuck in District 12. I had no close friends, I was closest to my co-workers and those were professional relationships and had nowhere to go, so I decided to stay home and celebrate by myself. Me, myself, and I.
I went downstairs and into the kitchen, taking in how odd it felt to have it empty and cold - not from the cold weather and snow falling outside, but from the lack of love and human energy in it, unlike any other Christmas I'd ever had. Shaking my head lightly to push those thoughts out of my mind, I reached for the kettle sitting on the counter and, with my other hand, turned on the tap. I quickly filled up that kettle before putting it back on its base and switching it on. I then reached over to another spot on the counter where a small box sat. It was a box whose design I saw so many times a day, the box was from my workplace, the Mellark bakery. I reached over and pulled the string off the box that was given to me by my boss, Mr. Mellark, the day before as a Christmas present. I threw the silver colored string aside and opened the box, revealing the perfectly cooked golden brown chocolate chip cookies that it contained, right as the kettle's familiar click sounded through the overly quiet kitchen. I forgot the cookies for a moment and moved to grab myself a mug and the jar of hot chocolate mix from the cupboard. Usually, I had coffee in the mornings, but hot chocolate seemed so much more Holiday appropriate, and reminded me of my mother and sister more than my usual bitter black coffee. I threw a tablespoon of the chocolate flavored powder into the mug and then filled it to about three quarters with the boiling water. I topped it off with a splash of milk before taking a sip of the boiling hot, creamy drink. I reached over and grabbed one of the cookies from the box, its absence revealing another layer of cookies, which I recognized as the bakery's cinnamon flavored ones. I dipped the cookie in the hot drink before taking a bite, enjoying the mixture of flavors that danced around on my tongue. My breakfast choice brought a small sense of normalcy to my Christmas morning, warming up my being slightly, but not replacing the love of a family that my house was lacking.
I grabbed the box of cookies and went into my living room, looking empty for the Holiday season with the only decorations being the two-foot-tall Christmas tree, barely decorated, sitting on a small table in the corner of the room. It was just another cold, empty room to remind me of my loneliness on my first Christmas alone. I rested my mug and box of cookies on the coffee table and got up to start a fire in the fireplace in the corner opposite to the Christmas tree, hoping it would warm up the living room and make it feel less empty. I knew that was a hopeless wish, though. No fire could replace the warmth your family can fill you with. Never. My house was cold and empty, and no amount of hot chocolate or fire would fix that. Som instead of wishing for something that would never happen, I curled up on the couch and flipped the television on. It turned on to reveal a Christmas movie. I just rolled my eyes at how stupid elf boy looked in yellow and green tights, but kept watching just to pass time.
Turns out that movie was really... odd. And it reminded me of Prim, since it seemed like something she would like. I wondered what she was doing, even thought about calling, but, for some reason didn't. They did think I was working, after all. That's what I had told them before I found out that the bakery was going to be closed, and I hadn't actually talked to either of them since. I wondered if they were working, since I knew hospitals were open on Christmas, unlike bakeries apparently were. Another Christmas movie had began, this one showcased talking dogs - not my thing. I grabbed the remote and switched it off before I decided to be lazy and boring and watch another kiddy Christmas special that made absolutely no sense. The box of cookies was empty, as was my cup of hot chocolate. I didn't care though.
I crawled off the couch and went back into the kitchen, throwing the empty box in the trash and the mug on the counter next to sink, choosing to wash it later on with whatever other dishes I might dirty in between now and then. Peaking out the kitchen window, just above the sink, I saw that it had stopped snowing and that about two inches of fresh snow now covered the ground. I smiled, it was another hint of normalcy in the first Christmas of it's kind, for me at least. Fresh snow had fallen every Christmas for as long as I could remember, even back when I was a little girl and my dad would take me out to the woods to grant one of my Christmas wishes, which was something different every year. These moments were also the ones that made me miss my dad all that much more. And, unlike my mother and Prim, I'd never see him on Christmas day again.
Those thoughts gave me an idea. Still wearing my pyjamas, I went over to the front entrance. I grabbed my boots from the closet, slipped them on, and then grabbed my dad's old coat, one of the things that stayed with me when my mom and Prim moved. I slipped that on over my hoodie before opening the door and, unlike the other times I was hit by a cold rush that day, I enjoy the cold breeze from outside as it comes in through the open door. I walk outside, my eyes on the house directly in front of mine, the one occupied by why coworker, that baker's son, Peeta Mellark. I wonder if he's at his parents' place, attached to the bakery, or if he's home. I wasn't actually sure why I cared, though. I shut my front door behind me before walking down the familiar street, the souls of my boots leaving footprints in the fresh snow. I headed to another part of town first, the Seam, as people called it. It was the neighborhood where my dad grew up, where I was born before we moved into a richer part of town after my mom's healing business picked up. Sometimes, I missed the old, poor part of town. I missed my old friends, like Gale, who decided he didn't like people who lived outside of the Seam, ending our friendship out in the woods after a day of hunting.
Turning before I reached the Hawthorne, Gale's family, home, I headed to another place I held dear to my heart, the woods surrounding the district. The same woods my dad used to hunt in, when he wasn't in the mine, to feed us. I made my way under the fence that surrounded the district, the one that used to be electric, according to my dad, but hasn't been for awhile. It was just there now. I walked through the familiar trees, remembering moments in some of them - like the time my dad taught me to climb up one but I couldn't get down, or when he hung up my first squirrel. If I couldn't be with my mom and sister, than I'd have to go to the one place where I felt closest to my dad.
The further into the woods I got, the thicker the trees got and more snow covered the ground, the compilation of the snow that had fallen earlier that winter and the snow fresh from the morning. I continued to walk through the woods, taking the familiar route to my location, the route that very few people would be able to follow. I passed familiar boulders, giant maples, bushes the held familiar berries during the spring, summer and fall. All these things made up the old trail to my destination. And, finally, I arrived at the familiar lake where my dad used to take me, where he taught me to swim, where he would get me hyped up about Prim's arrival, where he'd let me sing at the top of my lungs whenever I wanted.
I pulled my sleeve over my hand and wiped all the snow of a big rock where I used to sit and watch my dad clean that day's catch. I sat down, wincing slightly as the cold stone made contact with my flannel covered butt. I didn't stand up though. Instead, I pulled my legs up and crossed them indian style. I just sat there, taking in the beauty of my snow and ice covered surroundings. Everything glistened in the few rays of sun the shone above our world. Taking in the peace, serenity and beauty of the area, I almost felt out of place. I was a struggling, upset girl with my hair down and matted wearing the same thing I slept in that night. I just sat there, not speaking, not moving, just sitting and letting the peace of the world on this side of the fence rub off on me.
I didn't know how long I had sat there, but it was long enough for the sky to practically completely clear and for some of the trees closest to the lake, in the more open area, to start dripping because of the melting snow from their branches. I got up, glancing around the clearing once more, before turning to leave. Just as I was about to submerge into the trees again, I turned back around and waved, to my father. I quickly turned around and started running through the trees until I was out of breath. I started walking very close to town and soon enough found myself back on the streets of the Seam. I decided to take the longer route from the Seam to my house, not wanting to get home just yet, not wanting to be back in that cold, empty house. The road that went around the edge of town was empty and I took the opportunity to just think about everything. From work to family, from my little sister's potential gifts to my lack of a social life, from Gale to Peeta, who seemed to be home as I got back, as the lights in his living room were on.
I walked up the steps to my front door, where the snow was beginning to melt. I went to reach for the door when my toes hit something on the step. I looked down to see two wrapped boxes sitting there. They were wrapped in simple red with a green ribbon wrapped around them, tying into a bow on the top. They were sitting on an empty grocery bag, which I assumed was to keep the snow from wetting them. At first, she thought they might be from her mom, but that lack of a mailing address shot that idea down. There was no name, but they had to be for me, no one else lived there. I reached down and scooped them into my arms before unlocking the door and walking in.
I kicked off my boots and went into the living room, placing the two boxes on the coffee table. I went back to the closet and stripped off my dad's coat, hanging it up. I went back into the living room, my eyes once again falling on the red presents on the table in the center of the room. I debated opening them. Why? I don't actually know. I knew they were for me, but I couldn't help but wonder from who. I decided that the contents may reveal the sender, the secret Santa who placed these two boxes on my doorstep. I reached for the top one, the smaller one, and gently peeled off the wrapping paper. I sat down on the couch as a small box was revealed. I opened that as well and pulled out a Christmas ornament, a plate of cookies with two making up the top of the pyramid-esque tower. On one of the top cookies, in green made to resemble ice-cream, read my name, and on the other the year. I turned it around in my fingers a few times, but nothing revealed who had placed it on my doorstep - not a name, an initial, a scribble of Merry Christmas. I smiled though, just at the thought that someone, whoever it was, had thought to give me something. I placed the ornament down on the table before grabbing the bigger boxe. It was light and I could feel things moving inside it. I pulled the ribbon and paper off that too to reveal a box from the bakery. Opening it revealed cupcakes, six of them, with intricate designs piped on top of two, fondant poinsettias on two others and fondant holly berries and leaves on the other two. It was decorating work I recognized instantly. Peeta's.
Was it possible, though, that Peeta was my secret Santa? Why would he give me a Christmas gift? He was my closest friend - even though that didn't take much - but I doubted he could say the same about me. He was the kind of guy everybody liked, kind, good-looking, loving, sweet. I seriously doubted that I was the person he considered his best friend. I worked at his parents bakery, showed interest in his incredible decorating skills, he had even tried to teach me once or twice, to discover that I was only good at working the register and setting timers. That was a professional relationship though, not one where you randomly gave anonymous gifts to. I started to panic that perhaps work was doing a secret Santa and I had forgotten, but deep down I knew that wasn't true. Peeta had another reason for leaving those gifts on my doorstep, and I was going to figure out what it was.
I was still wearing my flannel pyjamas, and was eating one of the poinsettia cupcakes from Peeta for supper when a knock sounded at the door. I quickly forced the bite down my throat before going to answer, shocked by who was standing there. His blue eyes so familiar, his blond curls hanging into his face, his smile sweet just like all the others that made him so very unforgettable. Peeta.
"Hi" I said softly.
"Hi" he said back. He motioned to the cupcake in my hand. "I see you got my gift" I nodded with a smile.
"Yeah. They're very good" I replied, a smile lighting up my face. To prove my point, I took another bite, a smile still on my face as I chewed and swallowed.
"I'm glad you like them" he said. I nodded.
"But, uh... why?" I asked, motioning to the dessert in my hand. He smiled at me sweetly.
"I heard you were alone for Christmas and thought you might like a gift" he told me. It was so sweet.
"What about you?" I asked. I was expecting him to be at his parents, not on my doorstep. He just shrugged and I figured he didn't want to talk about it. I realized he was still on my doorstep, and, as much as it was awkward to have your co-worker there with you, I felt bad that I had just left him standing there. "Come in?" He nodded with a smile. I smiled back at him. His eyes drifted up and his face lit up. My gaze followed his. Mistletoe? When did that get there? But, looking back at his face, I knew. Without pointing it out, I figured out that it was him who put the mistletoe above my door. Without actually thinking further though, my lips locked with my not so secret Santa's.