Hey I really just want to make a Christmas story before it's actually Christmas… I have yet to get into the holiday spirit for some reason…
So here it is
Max was sitting down, sinking into the large grayish-brown armchair, absentmindedly picking at one of its many holes on one of the armrests.
Nudge was sitting next to her, rattling on about this type of clothing and another…
Max wasn't listening, nor was she worrying about the Gasman and Iggy bent over the smallish contraption, maybe a bomb, on the corner coffee table, nor was she wondering if Angel were asleep yet, nor did she ponder why Fang was staring pensively out the window. She wasn't even thinking about where their next destination was or what she would do if an Eraser flew through the window just then.
Her eyes were, instead, staring warmly at the beautiful display of lights in front of her.
The little fire crackled blissfully away in the small hearth of the borrowed little shack in Wyoming.
Max could hear the wind outside pounding on the walls of the flimsy little shack and had previously been worrying that she wouldn't be able to hear an impending attack if ever one came. Then she had thought about the snow… what was the date today?
Then she noticed the fire. The joyful little dancing thing of light that was the only source of heat in the cold little haven. Did the little fire even know that it was little? Did it even know that it was a fire? Did it know anything? Did it even think?
Then her mind was completely cleared of any thought as the looked deeper into the flame, into the barely visible blue parts of the fire. It was a good fire.
Max pulled a string off of the armrest and tossed it gently aside without even thinking. Nudge's voice was now a low, constant buzz at the back of her head. A few chimes sounded in the howling wind, but Max still didn't come out of her trance.
The twisting red-and-orange flames danced imprints into her mind. And left blue-green afterimages on her eyes.
What was today's date?
Max sat like that in blissful silence for a long time—maybe a minute, maybe an hour, maybe more—quietly unraveling most of the upholstery on the armrest, letting the warmth quietly sink into her as she sank into the comfy chair.
Then she suddenly came to and noticed that the entire house was quiet except for the crash of wind and the crackling of the fire. No one was talking and Nudge, for some miracle unknown, had stopped talking.
She looked over at Nudge… or, where Nudge had been. There was now an empty chair. She looked over to where the Gasman and Iggy had been sitting. Still no. Fang wasn't next to the window, either.
She whizzed her head around, looking left and right, her back straightening under her blanket and her hands clenched into fists, ready for a fight.
A sound behind her startled her, and she bolted upright, green blanket falling in a heap around her ankles, wings flared out defensively, and turned around to face the source of the noise.
"Woa there, tiger," said Fang as he entered from the hallway that lead to the bedrooms at the back of the house, "It's only me."
"Oh," said Max as she let out a breath of air she hadn't noticed she had been holding, "I thought you were an Eraser."
She bent down to pick up the fallen blanket.
Then Fang was at her side and took the blanket from her, and said, "You really have to stop worrying so much." He placed the blanket around her shoulders with careful hands.
"You do realize that we've been running from the School for a while now, don't you?" she said, then, gesturing to the empty living room as she sat down, "Where'd the rest go?"
"I sent them to bed, you were really knocked out," He laughed.
"What?"
"Maximum Ride, sleeping like a baby, not quite as tough as she looks." He said with a smirk and sat down next to her.
Max rolled her eyes playfully at him and turned her eyes to the fire once again.
Fang turned his powerful brown-eyed gaze at her. She almost went limp as she saw the beautiful wisdom swimming around in them, like white fish in a koi pond. They were almost as enchanting as the fire itself, as if he had taken away some of the hypnotic power from it.
Suddenly Fang's lips were on hers, and his powerful arms were caressing the nape of her neck.
And hers were his.
They stayed like that for as long as it seemed Max had been staring at the fire. But definitely not enough, Max thought as their lips parted.
She looked at his eyes again, hypnotized like she had been with the fire, not a care in the world. She looked away at the fire again. Dancing joyfully to the rhythm of her heart.
Fang had his arm around her and was stroking her shoulder with his thumb, her head on his chest. She was completely carefree and full of bliss as she watched the fire. Then she thought of the question that she had been thinking about earlier.
"Hey, Fang?" she said, turning to him.
"Mm?" Fang was staring at the fire, seemingly as content as she felt.
"What's the date today?"
Fang thought about this a moment, his eyebrows drawn together. He didn't take his eyes away from the fire. Max saw it reflected in his eyes as it did its dance in the stone hearth.
Then Fang smiled. He turned to Max, "Today's December the twenty-fifth."
"Christmas?"
Fang nodded. Max smiled.
They both went back to staring at the fire. The happy little fire that it was, dancing and twisting its merry life away.
Christmas. And no Erasers all day.
None.
Life, it turned out, really did have some peace left in it.
Max smiled and snuggled closer to Fang as he stroked one of her wings.
Life was very good.