A/N: So you probably don't know this about me, but I love Christmas...no really, I LOVE Christmas. L.O.V.E. Those annoying/loveable characters on TV shows that go crazy decorating everything for Christmas and spontaneously singing Christmas songs and wearing tacky Christmas clothing/accessories and spending hundreds of dollars on gifts for charity and buying 20 rolls of wrapping paper and miles of ribbon? That's me. I set up a gift wrapping station in my house – I shit you not. So how could I not write a fluffy Christmas themed Naomily one-shot! This is disgustingly sweet and cute fluffy nonsense...you've been warned.
Oh, and the title for this lil story is from my all time favourite (non traditional) Christmas song – www .youtube. com/watch?v=7Ts0UlpWbbw
"Remember, if Christmas isn't found in your heart, you won't find it under a tree."
~ Charlotte Carpenter.
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Naomi wraps her scarf around her neck and slips her hands into her gloves, steeling herself for the jarring cold she knows is waiting for her outside. Everything is frozen and covered in white and Naomi hates it. Hates that she's constantly wearing at least three layers of clothing and that the bottom of her jeans are always wet. Normally she wouldn't be heading out in this weather unless she absolutely had to, but last week Emily had arranged to meet with her to say goodbye before the redhead went home for the holidays, and Naomi doesn't want to let her friend leave without saying goodbye. Without giving her the present she'd gotten for her, which is tucked safely in her bag, wrapped in Christmas paper and ribbon as expertly as Naomi could manage. It still looked a little sloppy, but she'd done her best.
She pushes through the door of her building and then tucks her hands into her coat, releasing a harsh breath and cursing when the cold hits her face as she sets off down the path. Tries to settle the flurry of butterflies in her stomach the way she always does, reminding herself that Emily is just a friend. That Emily doesn't think of her that way. That Emily has a girlfriend.
But like always, it doesn't work. It hasn't worked for three years now, and try as she might, (and she really has tried), Naomi can't get over the redhead. Can't stop thinking about how soft Emily's lips look or how much her mum would love Emily or how she'd like to take Emily to her favourite restaurant on a date. She's gotten used to this feeling, this longing, so that now it doesn't hurt quite as much as it used to when she sees Emily with another girl. Or when the redhead mentions that she loves how great a friend she is. It's just how things are, how they've been since they met. That first year of university when the redhead had knocked on her door looking to return something to Naomi's roommate. The blonde's breath had been robbed from her body when she'd caught sight of that bright red hair, (it was quite a bit brighter back then), and Naomi knew she was a total goner once Emily had opened her mouth and that raspy voice tugged low in her stomach. Naomi had never felt anything like it before, such a deep and instant attraction, and was desperate to know the redhead. Asked her roommate about her and kept an eye out for her around campus until finally working up the courage to speak to her again after a class they shared. Naomi quickly learned that Emily was indeed gay, but her joy at that news was simultaneously extinguished by the mention of the redhead's girlfriend. So Naomi decided she would wait, and they became friends, and then somehow got stuck there. Keeping each other at a certain distance. Becoming friends but never best friends. Almost as if both of them knew that getting closer would be a bad idea. Emily got another girlfriend and then Naomi had a girlfriend and then Emily had a different girlfriend and then Naomi had a boyfriend. It was just never the right timing, and Naomi has accepted that it's the way things will always be. But that doesn't mean she knows how to turn these feelings off.
She kicks a lump of snow on the edge of the path and glances at the Christmas decorations that have been put up in the park. Wreaths and lights hanging about the place. Naomi doesn't get Christmas. Doesn't understand why grown up, rational people seem to lose their shit around this time of year like it's some kind of magical mood elevator. Since it was just her and her hippy mum growing up, Naomi's never really had a Christmas. Usually she tells people that and they look at her like she's a lost puppy, but a lack of festive cheer has never really bothered her. She occasionally donates to charity and is generally a good friend and daughter most of the time, so she doesn't feel like she needs to use the birth of some mythical prophet as an excuse to be nice to people, or spend a tonne of money on presents.
Emily had been mortified when Naomi had told her about her lack of Christmas celebration. It was during their first year after they had become friends and despite her best efforts Naomi had well and truly fallen for the redhead. They'd been having a coffee together and Naomi started complaining about Christmas Carols playing in a cafe and how ridiculous they all were. The blonde can still remember the horrified and pitying look on the redhead's face when she had told Emily what she thought of Christmas.
"What do you mean you don't care about Christmas? That's like saying you don't care about baby animals!" Emily's eyes are wide and her animated hands shoot up in the air.
"What? That doesn't even make sense."
"It's Christmas!"
Naomi just shrugs. "Christmas is an entirely fabricated celebration. You know Jesus wasn't even born on December 25th? They just made it that day to coincide with the pagan celebrations of –"
"I know Naomi," Emily says as she rolls her eyes. "I took that class too. And it doesn't have to be about religion. It's a lovely time of year when people are kinder and more charitable –"
"That's another thing," Naomi replies, stepping up on her figurative high horse and raising her voice slightly. "Why do people wait all year to be nice to each other? You know the German and Allied troops lowered their arms and celebrated Christmas together during the war? Did it remind them that they shouldn't have been fighting at all? No. Why do they need some mythical fat man with a white beard to tell them to?"
Emily cocks an eyebrow. "Mythical?"
"Yes Emily. We're all old enough to know that Santa doesn't exist."
"You don't know that."
Naomi shakes her head slightly, caught off guard.
"What? Seriously? Please don't tell me you believe in Santa Claus?"
"You can't disprove his existence."
Emily sits back in her chair and crosses her arms, a smirk on her lips, so enticing that it gets Naomi even more bothered.
"I can't disprove the existence of a planet made entirely out of marshmallows!"
"Exactly."
Naomi studies the redhead, wondering how she could possibly fall for a girl like this. The blonde is sensible and pragmatic and cynical, while Emily is optimistic and idealistic and a dreamer. Naomi chooses her classes because they are what she needs for her degree, whereas Emily decides on her classes by opening her book on a random page and dropping her finger somewhere on it. She still watches cartoons and likes dance movies and listens to pop music. She believes in love and hope and magic, things Naomi has never seen much need for. Although the redhead's presence in her life seems to be changing that.
"Oh my poor little Ebenezer," Emily says as she casually pats Naomi's forearm, sending a flash of heat through the blonde's body. "Christmas isn't about Santa or presents or fairy lights, even though those things are brilliant. It's about family and friends and giving and being thankful."
Emily's eyes flick up from her coffee to meet Naomi's and something about the look in those big brown eyes makes Naomi's stomach explode with butterflies.
"It's about love."
Naomi holds Emily's gaze for longer than she normally would, acutely aware of the fact that Emily's hand is still resting on her forearm, an intense moment stretching between them. One of those moments where if Naomi was bolder or drunk she would make a move on the redhead, but she is neither of those things, and technically she has a boyfriend, although she really only keeps him around as a distraction.
They'd had lots of those moments during their friendship. Tense, intimate moments charged with something that sent a shiver down Naomi's spine. But those moments had always passed. Just like this one does.
Emily pulls her hand back to rest in her lap, breaking eye contact and glancing down at the table. Naomi feels like she should look away too, focusing on her coffee and bringing it to her lips.
"Anyway," the redhead continues and Naomi notices that her voice is a little unsteady, "Christmas has always been a big deal in my family. We decorate the whole house, buy presents for different charities, and I even set up a gift wrapping station."
Naomi chuckles, can't help but be amused by that last one, but Emily waves it off.
"But it's really all about Christmas Eve. We eat a lot of good food and drink too much and laugh and sing while watching classic Christmas movies. It's completely lame but also properly awesome. Even James forgets how cool he is for one night and joins in."
Naomi watches the dreamy expression on Emily's face and finds herself envious of the Fitch family despite herself. She locked away all hopeful thoughts of having a normal family a long time ago, but occasionally things still sting. Still make her wish that she had grown up with that. It was just her and Gina for most of her life, then Kieran came along and then Effy and Cook. She's reminded that she loves what she does have though. Her tiny little family and friends.
"Well the Campbell household is much different. There's no wrapping station for one..."
Emily pokes her tongue out adorably and Naomi almost forgets what she's talking about entirely.
"..and there's no singing. Mum used to be much more militant about things when I was a kid, so we didn't celebrate Christmas at all. She relaxed about it when I was a teenager. Kieran likes Christmas, and once he moved in we finally had a Christmas tree. But we basically just get loaded and eat takeout and give each other a small present. It's no big deal."
Naomi can still remember the look on Emily's face when she had shared her Christmas traditions, or lack thereof, a mix of horror and pity. The redhead had invited her to spend Christmas with the Fitch family whenever she wanted, an offer Naomi was tempted to accept. She found the idea of Emily Fitch all joyful and Christmas-crazy almost too adorable to decline. But she never has taken her up on that offer. Thinks that maybe seeing Emily like that and being in Emily's family home would just be too much. Her poor little heart can take a lot, but not that much.
As Naomi rounds the corner of the cafe she glances in through the frosted windows and notices Emily's red hair immediately, sitting at a table with her back to her. Feels her heart start to beat a little faster. She pushes through the door and pauses for a second to take off her gloves and coat, then makes her way over to the table. The stupid smile on her face grows when she sees that Emily has already ordered for her, and she knows without a doubt that it's her usual soy cappuccino. Emily has always remembered that. Her heart does a little hiccup and she almost wants to slap herself for being so lame and tell herself to man the hell up.
"Hey there Fitch," she says casually as she slips into a chair, dropping her coat and gloves onto the empty one next to her.
"Hey Blondie."
It took Naomi a while to get used to Emily calling her that. She'd overheard Cook using that nickname when he'd visited once in second year, and the redhead was so taken by it that she started calling Naomi that sometimes. She never really liked it when Cook said it, but something about the amusement in Emily's eyes when she said it made Naomi like it a whole lot more coming from the redhead.
That amusement isn't in Emily's eyes today though.
"What's up with you?"
Naomi studies the redhead, knows that something is off with her despite Emily trying to project otherwise.
Emily shrugs nonchalantly as she takes a sip of her coffee. "How's your day been?"
Naomi ignores the question and narrows her eyes at the girl. Notices the frown that Emily's mouth eases down into and the slump of her shoulders. Not to mention that she's wearing black. At Christmastime. Emily Fitch made it her mission never to wear black in December.
"Hold up. You're not wearing anything Christmassy. Emily Fitch without so much as a jingling bell bracelet? Something is seriously up."
Naomi watches Emily sigh dramatically and run a hand through her shiny red hair. Her fingers twitch with the desire to do the same.
"Well, first Charlotte dumped me..."
Naomi tries not to wince. Feels both elated and annoyed, because on the one hand she doesn't have to watch Emily with that girl anymore, but on the other Emily is upset about it. She hates that Emily is all forlorn over her girlfriend dumping her. They hadn't even been together that long.
"...not that I really care about that," the redhead continues with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I wanted to break up with her before I went back home but I thought it was kind of shit to do that at Christmas. Apparently she doesn't have such manners."
Relief floods the blonde. "Well she isn't the brightest," Naomi smirks.
"No, she really isn't."
They share a smile, and Naomi is ridiculously relieved that Emily being heartbroken isn't the problem. Although that means there's something else.
"So then my mum called," Emily continues before the blonde has to ask, "and told me that her and my dad would be gone for Christmas. They won a fucking trip to New York, so they're leaving us kids to spend Christmas all loved up in New York. Isn't that fucking ridiculous? Like the plot of a made-for-TV Christmas movie or something."
Naomi shakes her head and laughs, amused by how worked up her friend is about it all. "It does sound a bit like a dodgy holiday movie."
Naomi thinks that if it were a dodgy Christmas movie Emily would probably love it.
The redhead huffs and sinks into her chair and crosses her arms and pouts like a toddler for a moment, before a smile breaks onto her face.
"Okay, I know I'm being a baby, but like...the Fitch family has never been apart at Christmas. Now Katie has plans to be with her boyfriend's family. James is going to stay with his best mate...everyone here is leaving..."
Naomi opens her mouth to tell Emily that, actually, I'm not going home this year, but the redhead keeps talking.
"And I'm stuck here...alone. So I'm cancelling Christmas."
It's said with such finality and sadness that Naomi wants to reach out to Emily. Reach her hand out over the table and find Emily's hand and tell her that she will be in London by herself this Christmas too and that maybe they could spend it together. But that kind of thing isn't what they do. What they do is get a drink together and she makes snide comments and they laugh and they do homework together in the library. They don't touch and they don't open up to each other. At least not like this...not so directly. Naomi is pretty sure she knows all the important stuff about the girl, all the childhood dreams and the awkward teenage experiences and most of the painful stuff, but it was all shared over a beer or late one night in the library or over email. It's just how they work, always a boundary between them. Offering to spend Christmas alone with her seems so far from what they normally do that Naomi feels a flush of nerves at the thought of even asking.
"I'm not going home this Christmas either, actually," the blonde says casually, wrapping her cold hands around her coffee and taking a sip. She decides to leave it at that, the ball in Emily's court.
The redhead's eyebrows quirk up. "Really? Not going to your mum's?"
"Nope," she answers with a shrug. "Kieran has family in Australia and mum wanted to escape the cold, so they've fucked off. Effy and Cook are going to be with her family this year...they invited me but...her family is pretty fucked up. I think I'd rather just stay here."
Emily holds her gaze for a second and then looks away, fiddling with the sleeves of her cardigan. There's a weird tension between them and Naomi's not sure why. A silent moment stretches between them and she tries to think of something to say.
"Well fuck. We're a couple of losers aren't we," Emily says with a chuckle, beating her to it.
"Yeah."
Silence falls between them again and the nerves flutter in Naomi.
"There might be some good parties in the halls," she offers weakly.
Emily scoffs. "You hate those parties. We both do. Drunk idiots talking shit and rubbing up on you...no thanks."
"Yeah."
Naomi hides behind her mug, taking another sip, and tries not to look Emily in the eye. But she can't miss how defeated the girl looks, how sad. She hates it, hates that Emily is unhappy and won't be able to celebrate Christmas and be all goofy and ridiculous and look like an elf.
"Well, we should hang out together then...we can have a non-Christmas...Christmas."
She frowns at her own words and then shakes her head, more than slightly embarrassed but it's out there now. It's not what they usually do, but it's Christmas, and if Emily has taught her anything, it's that Christmas is the time for doing things you normally wouldn't do and reaching out and magic and all that naff stuff.
Nervous blue eyes flick up to Emily's, awaiting her reaction. The redhead smiles slowly, a smile that Naomi notices reach her eyes.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
Naomi smiles to match the redhead's. "Brilliant."
They don't mention it again as they sit and sip their coffee, their conversation turning to classes and coursework and friends and politics and TV and music and their usual banter. It's all so normal except for the way Naomi's heart never quite settles in her chest. The way her hands feel the constant need to fidget. The way her eyes never hold Emily's for more than a brief moment, both girls seeming to avoid eye contact. She can feel the present burning a hole in her bag, her fingers itching to just hand it over to the redhead, but it doesn't seem right now that they'll be spending Christmas together. And suddenly the present feels too big, too personal, and Naomi thinks that maybe it's not the kind of thing a friend gives to another friend when they're spending Christmas alone together.
It's not until she and Emily have parted ways, said goodbye with a promise to talk tomorrow, that Naomi thinks about the sadness in Emily's eyes. The joy that was there a few days ago so obviously extinguished. Naomi finds herself missing how much Emily loves Christmas much more than she's ever missed Christmas herself.
She buries her hands in her pockets again and sets off into the cold, too busy formulating a plan to curse the weather.
-x-
Naomi pushes through the door of the store, determined eyes sweeping the room. She takes in the flashing multi-coloured lights hanging everywhere, the tinsel and garlands and baubles and figurines, the Christmas songs sung by pop stars blasting across the store. The assault on her senses almost makes her want to turn back around at first, but she can't let herself get distracted. She's on a mission. All last night she had been thinking of Emily, how sad her friend had looked without Christmas lighting up her eyes, and Naomi had decided that she was going to give Christmas to Emily. She might not put much stock in it herself, and might have always thought it was silly and naive and juvenile, but it means a lot to Emily, so that means a lot to Naomi. Even though she'd never admit that to anyone.
She takes the list out of her jeans pocket and glances down at it, ready to execute this shopping expedition with the precision of a military operation. She'd spent hours last night trying to remember everything Emily had told her about a Fitch Christmas. How they decorated the house and what they ate and watched and laughed about. So she knows what she needs to get to decorate her apartment and she's not going to get talked into buying anything superfluous by sales staff looking for a bonus. If she has to do Christmas, she'll be no nonsense about it.
She pulls out a trolley, feeling a little embarrassed because she's always thought trolleys were for mothers with too much stuff and kids hanging off them, but if she's honest with herself all of this is making her feel a little embarrassed. She tries not to think about it, but this is her putting herself out there for Emily in a way that neither of them really have before, so she's pretty sure the knot of nerves that has tangled in her stomach isn't going to go away until Christmas Eve.
She makes her way down the first aisle. She needs a tree. Nothing too fancy or big or expensive, just something that will do the job and not look pathetic. She finds one and hefts it into her trolley, pleased that it only took a few minutes, then moves into the next aisle. She finds tinsel and lights, (not the multi-coloured lights which she finds awfully tacky), and baubles and decorations and ornaments to put around the room. She hovers in the candle aisle, not sure whether candles would send the wrong message and create the wrong atmosphere or something. She doesn't want to make it feel intimate and therefore potentially awkward, but she knows that candles are a part of the Fitch Christmas tradition, so she picks some out and places them in the trolley.
Her trolley piled high with glittering objects, Naomi is making her way to the registers when something catches her eye and she stops and swivels the trolley around, walking over to the display. She reaches up and slips the tree ornaments from where they hang, two turtle doves with their wings spread that hang separately but can also fit together. Naomi remembers Emily telling her about how of all the things from the Twelve Days of Christmas song, she had always wanted the doves most when she was a child. Naomi had laughed at her and said that she would have gone for the gold, but Emily had just shrugged and said that the doves were perfect. Naomi puts them in her trolley too.
Later that night, with pizza filling her belly, Naomi opens a bottle of wine, puts on the new Florence CD and sets about turning her tiny lounge into a Christmas wonderland. Emily had called earlier in the day as promised, and again Naomi had been troubled by the bitterness and resignation in her friend's voice as she talked about their plans for Christmas Eve. Naomi had played it as casual as she could whilst blushing furiously, agreeing when Emily suggested the blonde's apartment like she knew she would because believe it or not her shoebox apartment is bigger than Emily's. They were going to order Chinese and watch some movies and drink far too much and Emily would probably be passing out on her couch. Naomi had felt the knot in her stomach tighten when she thought about whether her friend would actually appreciate her efforts. That maybe Emily really did want to forget Christmas if she couldn't have it with her family. But then she remembered all the naff things Emily had tried to convince her that Christmas was about and it eased the knot slightly. And hey, if she was going to fall on her ass, at least she'd do it surrounded by tinsel.
The first thing she decides to tackle is the tree. She'll never admit it to anyone, but the silly plastic tree almost outsmarts her until Naomi finally takes a second to use her brain and figure out how to put it together. Her professors might call her mind brilliant, but after a glass of wine she struggles to follow instructions.
As she sets about wrapping the lights around the tree and draping the tinsel and hanging ornaments, Naomi recalls Emily telling her that when her and her siblings were younger, they would wake up in the morning to the house completely decked out and decorated for Christmas. Emily explained how they had thought it was magic, that little elves had come to decorate their house in the middle of the night, and didn't learn until they were a bit older that it was actually their mother staying up half the night. The twins had played along for James' sake when they were old enough to know better.
Naomi remembers the story and realises that she has that stupid grin on her face. The one she gets when she thinks about Emily and feels that annoying tug in her tummy. The one that means, I want. It's the type of story that should make her frown and roll her eyes and think of words like lame and wanky and bollocks. But it doesn't. Instead, it makes her heart swell in her chest a little. She's never really thought about having kids or a family or anything, at least not since that terrifying pregnancy scare last year, but thinking of this lame holiday stuff makes her think that maybe. Maybe one day it would be nice to have a family and have silly traditions and trick tiny humans into thinking magical things happen. Like a big practical joke on kids who don't know better. Naomi can definitely get behind that. But after half a bottle of wine Naomi thinks that it could be nice. The whole family thing could be very nice.
She goes through her bags filled with Christmas cheer and tries her best to make it look special and festive and, (she hates herself a little for even thinking it), magical. Hangs garlands of holly around the windowpanes and a Merry Christmas banner under the entryway. Lines up candles along the windowsill and places ornaments around the room, putting far too much effort into making their placement look effortless. There's no fireplace to hang stockings, but Naomi makes do by hanging them from a bookshelf.
The last drops of wine are dripping into her glass when the blonde thinks about Effy. If her best friend could see her now. Halfcut and dancing around the room wearing tinsel like a feather boa. She shudders, imagining the look on the brunette's face if she ever so much as knew about this. Or about the stupid Christmas sweater Naomi bought to wear because the Fitches always wear them like some cult family. But then Naomi shakes her head and thinks no, Effy and her cynical scowl can go fuck themselves because as stupid as she feels Naomi is having fun. And she likes the idea of giving this to Emily. Of sharing it with Emily. It's taken 21 years and a bottle of wine but she's finally starting to get it. Starting to understand why people indulge in Christmas and lose their minds. Doing something for someone else and being with the people you love. She thinks of Emily and the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, really laughs, and Naomi feels ridiculously proud because she can always make Emily laugh like that. Or the way the redhead's tongue sneaks out of her mouth when she's concentrating really hard. Or the sadness in those big brown eyes when she's reading the newspaper, and Naomi just wants to wrap her up and protect her from all the bad stuff. The way her nail polish always matches her shoes. The million shades of red that shine in her hair in the sunlight. The delicate way she always holds her coffee cup. Naomi sits on the floor with her back resting against the couch and thinks about Emily.
She's finally starting to get it.
-x-
She glances in the mirror in the hall for the millionth time that hour, pacing back and forth and wearing a track into the floorboards. She worries that she looks too...something. She's never been good at the whole, look like I'm not trying but I look fabulous thing, and she's worried that she looks like she tried too hard. That Emily will be able to tell that something is up just by looking at her. And then there is the ridiculous sweater she's wearing. It's red and white and okay, maybe it's not that ugly, but it's got reindeer on it and three years ago Naomi would have punched herself in the face for wearing this.
She checks the time again. Emily should have been on her doorstep fifteen minutes ago, and while the redhead isn't known to be the most punctual person, often being distracted from her way by babies and puppies and old ladies and cute girls and anything else possible, the knot in Naomi's stomach clenches tighter because this is really happening and she works better when things go to plan. Emily being late has thrown off that plan. Although things had been a little off all day really.
She'd passed out on the couch last night and woken with a start, nerves electrifying her body instantly as she thought about the evening ahead. She'd also fallen asleep with the tinsel still wrapped around her neck and in the cold light of the morning she felt embarrassed for herself about that one. From there the day felt like a series of fuckups. She was running late for everything she'd planned for the day, mostly finishing up running errands and a trip to the supermarket. Her plan was to make some of Emily's favourite Christmas recipes, but as soon as Naomi stepped into her kitchen, she knew it wasn't going to end well. Considering that her culinary skills generally only reached so far as boiling pasta and re-heating food in the oven or microwave, she knew she would be stretching herself. But she reminded herself that she was Naomi Campbell, brilliant politics and history scholar and that if she could ace Professor Watson's 20th century politics course, then she could figure out a few easy recipes.
Except that's not how it went at all. A bottle of wine, a burnt pudding, a dried out turkey and a smashed smoke detector later, Naomi was ready to take up smoking again. She didn't want to call her mother and ask her anything, because international calls would cost a bomb, and plus, she'd no doubt have to tell her mum why she needed help with Christmas recipes, and then she'd be stuck listening to her mum get all goofy about her liking someone and then tease her over the phone about it. Then Kieran would probably get on the phone and talk about how he romanced her mum and the trick to getting into a woman's pants. She could do without that. So the original plan of Chinese takeaway had seemed like a winner.
A knock at the door startles Naomi from her daze and she glances in the mirror one final time, tugging on the sweater subconsciously. Nerves swirl around her stomach as she opens the door and her heartbeat doubles when she reveals Emily standing adorably in front of her with a grin on her face and a bottle of vodka in each hand.
"Merry not-Christmas," the redhead says brightly, her words fading as she glances down at Naomi's sweater. "What are you wearing?"
Naomi winces, opening the door a little wider and reaching out to wrap a hand around Emily's wrist, pulling the smaller girl into her apartment. She can't help but notice the way her hand burns where she touches Emily's skin.
"Hi," she says finally as she relieves Emily of the vodka and places it on the hall table.
Emily takes off her coat and gloves and hangs them up, eyeing Naomi curiously.
"So," The blonde begins after taking a deep breath, "I kinda did something which I hope you'll be happy about."
She studies Emily's face, watches the girl's eyebrows knit in confusion, waiting for the secret.
"Close your eyes and wait here."
Naomi smirks as Emily's eyebrow quirks up. "Seriously?"
"Yes. Please just do it."
Emily huffs and makes a show of closing her eyes and covering them for good measure, and Naomi quickly sneaks into the lounge, flicking the Christmas lights on and pressing play on the stereo and holding her breath as her heart beats loudly in her ears.
"Okay, come in the lounge."
Naomi feels her whole body vibrating with nervous energy as the redhead appears in the entryway, the apprehensive look on her face quickly giving way to a slightly confused grin.
"What is all this?" she asks as she takes in the room. "It's like a bunch of elves invaded your apartment."
She sounds a little thrilled at the prospect, and it makes Naomi think about the story Emily had told her.
Naomi shrugs, tries to keep her voice steady and her eyes down. "I just...I mean...you always go on about how much you love Christmas and how special it is and...I felt bad that you weren't going to have that this year. So...I tried to do it for you."
It's not until the words have left her mouth that Naomi realises how romantic this all sounds. How much she feels like she's holding her heart out in her hands offering it to the redhead so willingly, like some stupid teenager who doesn't know any better and doesn't know about heartbreak and disappointment and pain. She can feel it hammering in her chest, the sound of it drowning out almost everything else. She'd originally thought that this would be some fun silly thing that they could laugh about and get drunk and eat too much, but it hasn't turned out like that. She should have known that it could never turn out like that.
She can't bring herself to meet Emily's eyes, but she knows the redhead is staring at her, so she finally lifts her gaze.
Feels relief flood through her when she finds Emily standing closer to her, just a step away, a soft smile on her face.
"This is really sweet of you Naomi."
Naomi shrugs again, trying to act cool even though her cheeks are blushing red and she can't wipe the smile off her face.
"It's nothing really."
"Is that..?"
Naomi watches Emily's eyes narrow as she turns to the stereo in the corner of the room.
"Yes," Naomi admits painfully with a roll of her eyes, "it's the Mariah Carey Merry Christmas album. But I couldn't bring myself to pay actual money for it so I downloaded it instead. She has enough money."
Emily chuckles and the sound of it is so wonderful that Naomi feels like her heart is going to explode any minute now. Like if this keeps going so perfectly and nothing goes wrong she's going to end up having a heart attack because she just can't take this kind of thing. Her life never works out this way, the way she wants it to. She makes plans that always deviate. She makes lists that are always missing something in the end. She tries to prepare for all outcomes even though she knows that life doesn't work that way. She might be book smart, but when it comes to life, Naomi Campbell is kind of stupid.
Her eyes track the redhead as she walks around the room, getting a closer look at the tree and the ornaments hanging from it.
"Hey, you have some of the same ones that mum does at home."
Naomi rubs the back of her neck, suddenly feeling incredibly hot in her sweater.
"Uh, yeah. I remembered your stories."
Emily stares at her for a moment, wearing an expression Naomi can't read, and something tugs inside the blonde telling her that this is the moment. She should say something now. She should tell Emily that she remembers everything she tells her and that she loves how she still has the slightest lisp that's more prominent when she's drunk and that she's loved her since that first moment she saw her, standing on her doorstep asking after Naomi's roommate.
But she doesn't. She can't. Her throat closes up and she's silent, and then Emily is looking back to the tree with a joyful smile on her face. The redhead circles around it silently and Naomi feels like a bit of a dick just standing there, so she moves over to the couch and sits on the arm rest, trying to calm her heart and stop her hands from shaking. She tries not to watch Emily but that's impossible, her sneaky gaze sliding up and down Emily's body, setting off a whole other chain reaction inside her mind and body.
"Are those two turtle doves?"
Naomi snaps her head up at the sound of Emily's voice, doesn't even want to think about which stupid expression she just had on her face while daydreaming about her.
"Ah huh," she practically mumbles, knowing there's no use in pretending to be nonchalant about it, because she knows this is way past that.
Naomi can tell that Emily knows it too from the way she just nods her head and carries on looking.
"You wanna order the food?" she asks after a couple more minutes, desperate for Emily to stop looking around at all the obvious signs in the room about her feelings.
"Sure," Emily replies, finally moving away from the tree and taking a seat on the same couch.
Naomi wishes she would have sat on the other one. Having her this close just makes it worse.
They sit in an awkward silence for a second, before they both speak at the same time.
"I'll call the place."
"I'll get us some drinks."
-x-
Two hours, half a bottle of vodka and too much greasy food later, Naomi is leaning back on the couch rubbing her belly, the picture of elegance. She laughs when she catches Emily doing the same thing.
"I don't know where you put it. You ate more than me."
Emily smirks. "Just because I'm tiny doesn't mean I can't eat a lot. I'm 70% stomach."
Naomi chuckles and sits up slightly, humming along to the music. Mariah was swapped out an hour ago when the blonde finally cracked and couldn't handle it anymore. Emily had pretended to pout but it was a weak effort and Naomi had changed it for something far less festive.
"So, are we ever going to get around to watching a movie?"
Emily points over to the stack that she'd brought with her in her bag. Naomi was not impressed with her selection, most of them being wanky romantic comedies that she can't stand. She and Emily have been chatting away easily for the last couple of hours and she doesn't want that to end anyway.
She shrugs noncommittally, but the redhead doesn't pursue it. They sit in a companionable silence for a moment, nowhere near as awkward as before, not now that they are both well and truly buzzed.
"Hey," Emily says suddenly, like she's just had an idea. "Did you get me a Christmas present?"
Naomi wants to laugh at how much Emily looks and sounds like a child right now, asking her like this. But then she's reminded that she did get Emily a present. And what it is. And how nervous she is about it.
"Did you get me one?" she counters, not ready to give in yet.
Emily's grin widens and she nods her head enthusiastically. "Of course...I didn't."
Naomi feels something in her deflate. That's not the answer she was looking for.
"I got you a not-Christmas present."
Emily's smile is so wide and she looks so pleased with herself that Naomi just wants to take the few steps over to that couch and kiss her senseless. But she can't do that. Obviously.
"Well cough up," she says instead.
Emily makes a big production about getting off the couch and bounding over to her bag, pulling out a smallish box that's expertly wrapped and ribboned. Just like Naomi knows a present from Emily Fitch always is.
"Merry Christmas," Emily says gleefully as she hands it over.
"I thought this was a not-Christmas?"
"I don't know," Emily says with a smirk, her eyes glancing around the room, "this is feeling pretty Christmassy to me. Go on, unwrap it."
Naomi does as she's told, a nervous excitement curling inside her as she unties the ribbon and peels off the paper carefully. She wants it to be the perfect present. She wants it to be something so perfect it means that Emily knows her, really knows her, and that what they have is something. But she also wants it to be impersonal. Something that Naomi can use to convince herself that this is all in her head and Emily isn't really the one for her.
She holds her breath as the paper comes loose, revealing what's inside.
It's a camera. Not a digital one, but like an old timey needs actual film type camera. Naomi doesn't know what to think. She looks up at Emily and her confusion must be obvious because the redhead hurries to explain.
"Well I know you are all about your academic subjects and taking the classes that you need for your degree, but I'm thinking about taking a photography class next semester and I wanted you to take it with me."
Naomi's still not sure what to think. Opens her mouth to say something, she's not quite sure what, but the redhead keeps explaining.
"It's just that I've noticed that you like photography. Even though you haven't really mentioned it before. But you liked that exhibition that the uni put on last year. I know you went a couple more times because my friend Casey was working there and told me she saw you. And earlier this year we went to that cool market and you lingered at that stall with the guy with the black and white photographs. You always do that. And the only artwork you have in your apartment are photographs..."
Naomi notices the way Emily is rushing her sentences. The anxious lilt in her voice like she's asking a question.
"I just thought...I don't know. I just thought it could be a cool thing we could do together and that you might enjoy it."
Naomi feels a wave build inside her and has to swallow to force it back down. She feels like crying. She feels like screaming. She feels like taking hold of Emily Fitch and never letting her go. It's the perfect present. A present only Emily Fitch would give her. Emily Fitch, the girl who is always making her do things she never thought she'd do.
"It was a silly idea, you don't have to take it."
It's not until then that Naomi realises she hasn't said a word. Just looked at the camera held in her lap silently.
"No," she says softly, trying to keep her voice even. "It's perfect. I'd love to take that class with you."
She lifts her head and their eyes lock and when Emily grins Naomi feels all the air rush out of her lungs. Feels like every nerve in her body is on fire.
"Brilliant," the redhead says with a delighted clap, "I'll let you know about the class when uni's back."
Naomi can only nod, not trusting herself to speak without blurting out I love you please be mine.
Emily pours them both another drink and then settles back on the couch looking rather pleased with herself. Naomi places the camera on the table carefully and then picks up her drink, gulping the whole thing down quickly.
"Whoa there. We've still got hours before midnight," Emily cautions her. "Slow down Blondie."
Naomi shakes her head and winces at the burn in her throat. She needed that. She'll need it for this. She takes a second to compose herself.
"Do you want your present?"
"Hells yes I do!"
Naomi watches Emily bounce in her seat and rolls her eyes. For a girl who talks up the virtues of giving at Christmas, she sure does like to receive.
The blonde stands a little shakily, stepping carefully out of the room and into the kitchen, pulling open a cupboard and reaching for the little wrapped box. Her hand falters briefly, doubt and fear shaking her, but she takes hold of it and walks back into the lounge. Emily is standing in front of the tree when she does. She holds the gift out to an expectant Emily.
"Merry Christmas."
Emily gives her a soft smile before turning her attention to the present, not taking nearly as much care with the wrapping as Naomi did, practically ripping it open.
Naomi can feel her heart beating in her throat. The knot in her stomach tightening. It's eased slightly when she watches the happiness that washes over Emily's face as she realises what the present is.
Within the first few weeks of becoming friends, Naomi had pulled Emily up on a Care Bears reference the redhead had made. She couldn't believe that an almost grown (Emily is terribly short) woman liked the Care Bears, but Emily had gone on one of her long spiels about how she had loved them growing up and her dad had given her a watch for her eighth birthday and she had worn it every day until she'd lost it a couple of years ago. Emily had only mentioned it a couple of times since, but Naomi could tell that it had meant a lot to the redhead.
"It's like the one that you lost," she feels compelled to explain. "And I mean, I know it's not the same as having your old one, but I think it's the exact same one from how you described it and the year it was made. You told me how much it meant to you so I thought..."
Emily shakes her head. "Naomi. I told you that like the first month we met. Three years ago."
Naomi can only nod and look away awkwardly, suddenly very aware of how close they are standing next to each other. She's not sure what to say. Pretty sure the present says it all really.
"It's lovely. You're lovely."
Emily takes a small step toward her and before Naomi can register what's happening the redhead is lifting up onto her tiptoes and kissing her on the cheek.
"You've made this Christmas so much better."
The kiss is quick and soft and Emily's lips feel just as wonderful as she's always thought they would. She wants to feel it again.
Emily steps back and smiles bashfully, colour in her cheeks.
Naomi swallows. This is one of those moments. One of those moments where she should make a move on Emily. She starts to think that maybe the reason things have never worked out for her is because she's never really tried for them. Not really. She's just sat back and watched and waited for whatever has come her way. She thinks back through the last three years and all the times she could have made a move on Emily. All those times Emily stared at her with barely disguised want and desire and lust and love and Naomi had been too scared. It hadn't been bad timing or miscommunication or bad luck like she tells herself to make herself feel better. It was Naomi being too scared. Too afraid of things not working out, or maybe scared of things actually working out, that she had never done anything about it. Paralysed by fear.
But this is her moment.
"You're lovely."
Emily looks up at her, those big brown eyes waiting.
"And you make it better."
Brown eyes bore into blue, and on any other night for the last few years Naomi would have looked away and shut her mouth. But not tonight.
"It's not just Christmas. I mean...you make everything better...brighter. I know I can be a bit of a negative shit sometimes but you always make me feel like all that happily ever after bollocks is actually true...or that Santa Claus could be real...even though I know he's not. You get me to sing karaoke and go to weird plays and watch silly movies and lie on my back in the grass finding animal shapes in clouds. You make me believe in something...in myself. You're the most wonderful and special person I know and...I love you Emily. The best part of my day is seeing you."
The words are barely out of her mouth before there's a body pressed against hers and hands tangled in her hair and soft lips moving with her own. Kissing Emily, she's kissing Emily, and she feels like she's floating and anchored to the spot at the same time. It's so much more than she'd ever imagined, and as her hands move to the redhead's back to press them closer together Naomi knows that she never wants to stop doing this. Never wants to not be able to kiss Emily Fitch.
They break apart after a few minutes, breathless and panting, Naomi's hands sliding around to cup Emily's cheeks gently, her thumbs tracing her jaw line and then her lips. Emily's hands slide down to Naomi's hips, then pull them tight against each other again.
"You idiot. I've loved you for three years."
.
.
Awww...cuteness.
Another year almost gone, and hopefully we've all learned something from it. This year has probably been the most important of my life – I've cried more tears than I thought possible, felt more pain and fear than I thought I could withstand and made some terrible mistakes that I'd give anything to erase. I had my heart broken for the first time and had to face up to a lot of truths about myself and my family. But I've also laughed more than I ever have, made friends that I know will be around forever, loved more than I thought I knew how to and felt more loved than I ever let myself before. After 26 years I finally asked for help, and found that there were a lot more people there for me than I'd thought. I've never felt more myself in all my life...and you guys are a part of that – some in more ways than others. I know I haven't been around for most of this year, but when I have been you've all been so wonderful and generous to me...it's been a tough year and you'll never know what that has meant to me – thank you all.
So that's it from me until the New Year – there will definitely be more SIHNT then! I hope you all have a fun and safe holiday season. I plan on spending Christmas with my family and best friend, eating too much good food, drinking far too much wine, watching terrible/awesome made-for-TV Christmas movies, being drunkenly serenaded by my bestie with dodgy Christmas songs, then crashing out with her in the early morning on my mum's couch...oh, and just being thankful that I'm so lucky to have everyone. I hope you all have a wonderful and safe Christmas with the people you love, if you're lucky enough to be with them. Also, let's all be thankful for Naya Rivera and her boobs...because I mean really.
peace out!
