Violet and Red

Her eyes darted to the fire as the amber flame flickered lower in the fireplace. She would have to go up to bed soon, that much she knew, but she just couldn't sleep. Not tonight. Fluffy snow was lightly falling outside the window, coating the grass outside in a white blanket that she would make sure they destroyed tomorrow. She grinned, she would force him to build snowmen and have snowball fights – he hated the snow, and anything cold really, but she loved it. She always had.

She remembered how he had decorated the tree so precisely, hanging only so many purple and so many red baubles, a few glass icicles here and there, a set of lights that she had turned off a few hours ago and lastly a silver angel on the very top. The tree was in darkness, the reflection of the fire glowing in a bauble or two. She had laughed at his antics, and she could have sworn the cat had too. She wasn't entirely sure why he had hung mistletoe up in the doorways, but she wasn't sorry. How things were between them now was a mystery to her, they had been best friends for so long and it scared her how right it had felt to be in his arms, his lips on hers. He had been scared too, she could tell, she always could with him.

Delicately wrapped presents lay under the tree: his was wrapped in violet, of course, and hers was wrapped in red. That was them, violet and red, him and her. Her legs were cold on the hard wooden floor, but she stayed there. There was no sleeping for her tonight; not on her first proper Christmas Eve. She had had Christmases before, yes. But that was when they had been poor and on the run, or back with her foster families who never cared for her. This was her first Christmas with a tree, and wrapped presents, and a cosy house to rest in.

Tonight was special.

The cat purred slightly from the arm chair, his cream tail swishing and his little paws grabbed out in front of him; she wondered what he was dreaming about. His present was gold, like the charm on his collar, she had gone out and bought him a ball of wool - oh, how he loved those - and some treats. She also had a little piece of tinsel ready to wrap around his neck when Christmas morning came – no doubt he would try and scratch it off but maybe she could manage to get a few pictures first.

Chimes of the clock sounded through the room; it was midnight. It was officially Christmas Day. She could barely contain her grin as she looked out the window. It was still snowing, so she would have the perfect white Christmas that she had always dreamed of. As she glanced back to the fireplace, where only burnt coals lay, her face fell. Although she was tired, she knew she would need some sleep if she didn't want to be tired tomorrow – or later today she supposed.

Quietly, she tiptoed out of the room and crept up the stairs. She pushed his door open and her eyes fell on his sleeping face.

The moonlight shone through the curtains he had obviously forgotten to close, illuminating his sleeping form. She rolled her eyes; the only things ever on his mind were food and sleep, (and her, she liked to think?).

The thought crossed her mind that perhaps the curtains had been purposefully left open. She knew that he missed it sometimes, because she did too: living under the stars, exploring the world together. But this was better, this was home.

She moved that menacing strand of lavender hair that always fell in his face, only for it to fall straight back. He was drooling, as usual, pouting, and snoring ever so softly. He did that a lot - pouting, even in his sleep it seemed. Her lips lightly brushed against his cheek.

'Merry Christmas,' she whispered, and crept back out of his room and into her own.

She pulled back the pale sheets and got into bed, her crimson hair falling out of its usual style as it hit her pillow and she closed her eyes. Have I always felt this way about him? she mused. He's the closest thing I've ever had to a family... She wondered what the future held for the two of them, but for now, she would just focus on tomorrow.

A/N: I actually wrote this for my creative writing part of my GCSE english course, hence the no use of names and non talking Meowth!

I do like this a lot which is surprising for me haha, but reviews are appreciated