A Christmas Fairytale
Summary: Two strangers meet in Paris on Christmas Eve.
She'd caught his eyes from across the street. It was like an invisible force pulled her towards him. The wind made the snowflakes dance in front of him, some of them landed on his coat, where they shone bright white against the black background, before they slowly melted away. His hair was caught in the icy wind, blowing down across his forehead. He was standing still, except for his eyes; they followed her when she hurried across the street. Her white coat was buttoned and the collar pulled up in attempt to keep the cold at a distance. The red hair rippled behind her in the wind, catching his attention. He stood with his back straight, hands in the pockets, head held high. The chilly wind biting his cheeks was the least of his concerns.
The stranger was only a few yards away from him; her cheeks wore a charming red color from the cold. The lights from the surrounding city made her hair shine golden red, and her skin just pure gold. Of all strangers in the city of Paris, she was certainly the most beautiful.
"Hello stranger" he greeted her, a smile flashing across his face, the blue eyes glittering in the golden light.
"Hi" she said back. Her voice had him slightly surprised. It was low and raspy, but still…he wouldn't have had it any other way. Her eyes strayed from his; they found his hand that he'd just taken out of his pocket. She did not flinch or back away when he touched her face. Though he was merely tucking away a strand of her hair lying across her eyes, it had a deeper meaning. He frowned as he let his fingertips caress her frozen cheek.
"You're cold as ice" he stated, withdrawing his hand.
"I know" she replied, finding his gaze again. "Would you care to spend Christmas Eve with a stranger?"
"I'd love to" She smiled at his response; it was enough to have him melting away. Snowflakes had begun to gather up in her hair, glistening like diamonds against the golden red.
"Good" she took his hand in hers; her fingers were as cold as her face. Instinctively, he placed the other hand on top of hers, not able to resist the urge to warm her. He gently rubbed her hand; it slowly began to warm up.
"Are you my Christmas hero?" she asked with a little laugh as he took her other hand. He didn't respond, busy as he was with giving warmth back to her hands. He looked up and met her gaze.
"Are you my Christmas angel?" he wondered, dropping her hands and took in her full appearance. She was sparkling, the melted snow on the white coat made it glisten.
"Maybe I am" she smiled shyly. He laughed at her expression, feeling her hands slip into his again. When he stared into her eyes, he saw the shadow of an angel behind the sparkling surface. The joy and mystery surrounding her had him strangely drawn to her. It was the kind of mystique that would lay around a fairytale, in this case a Christmas fairytale. He brought her hand to his lips, brushing them gently against the back of her hand. She smelled of cinnamon and he knew there was nothing he'd rather do than spend his Christmas with this beautiful stranger. Her skin felt soft against his lips, and he reluctantly lowered her hand, withdrawing it from his lips. When he looked back up at her face, his gaze swept over her features. Her lips were faint red and looked soft as velvet; their corners were curled up in a sweet smile. Her skin was fair, with red-colored cheeks from the cold.
"Can I buy you coffee?" he offered.
"I don't know. Can you?" she teased him, blinking one eye at him. He let out a soft laugh, intertwining his fingers with hers. She tilted her head to the side, waiting for his answer.
"Sure I can" he replied and led her down the sidewalk toward an old coffee shop in the street corner. As held the door open for her, the warmth brushed against them, heating their frozen fingers. The strong aroma of coffee and the thick air filled them up on the inside. The woman looked up at him, his hair was messy from the wind, but in combination with his proud and chivalrous behavior she found him very attractive. Without thinking she'd just met him, she cuddled closer to him, gently leaning her head against his shoulder. He ordered them two coffees to go, black for him and with milk and sugar for the woman. She giggled, causing him to look down at her.
"Now, how did you know I want milk and sugar in my coffee?" She purred, the thought that she'd just met the man resurfaced, but once again she pushed it away for the other feelings she had toward him. There was just something that had happened in her heart the moment she had seen him that had her convinced he'd never do anything to harm her.
"Lucky guess" he answered, a still smile slipping across his lips. The cashier handed over their order with a wide smile; the man paid and gave one of the cups to his angel.
"Merci, Monsieur" she thanked him, closing her hand around the offered cup. Her fingertips softly grazed against his. She felt his arm sneak around her waist, his hand resting lightly on top of her coat. She didn't mind him doing so; she felt warmth, coming both from his body and his heart. She wasn't afraid.
They stepped out into the cold again, the still falling snow crashed against their faces, a few landed on her eyelashes. She sipped her coffee, moving a little closer to her companion.
"I still don't know your name" she broke the brief silence that had begun to grow between them. She glanced up at him, he looked straight ahead, the cup of coffee was held against his lips as he slowly drank.
"Jethro" he answered, lowering his gaze until he found hers.
"Jenny" she answered his unspoken question.
"Do you know what I think, Jethro?" she asked, putting her head on his shoulder again.
"I don't know. What are you thinking?" he replied
"I'm thinking about a Christmas miracle. Do you believe in that?" Have you ever thought, strange things of great meaning happening on Christmas Eve, that it can actually be a Christmas miracle?" she wondered as she kept watching his face for a reaction. After sipping his coffee again, he answered.
"I don't really believe in miracles anymore" he said sadly, a snow flake landing underneath his eye, melting, making it look like a tear had escaped. His eyes glazed over momentarily, lost in a memory of what she figured must have been his last Christmas miracle, before something took away his happiness.
"Hey" she said, pulling into a stop and slipped her body in front of him. "Hey" she repeated, finding his gaze and caressing his cheek with her hand. "What happened?"
He tried to get away from her piercing gaze, but she held him steadily in place. "I was happy, once. Had a family. They were my miracle. My little girl…" he trailed off, his voice had thickened, and he could feel the tears burning behind his eyelids. He saw the sympathy and sadness in her eyes. The next second he felt her lips gently brush against his.
"I'm so sorry" she whispered, withdrawing herself again. But he shook his head.
"Don't be" he breathed, even that light touch of her lips had made him shiver with pleasure, heated him up on the inside, filled him with a joy he hadn't felt since he's lost his family. "Tell me, this miracle, what does it feels like?" he was grinning now, and judging by the look in her eyes, she had felt the same when she'd kissed him.
"Like this" she replied, kissing him passionately on the mouth. She dropped the cup as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling him closer. His arms had slipped around her waist, holding her securely in place as he kissed her back with equal force.
"Now do you believe in miracles?" she asked when she'd pulled away, panting slightly.
"You're almost having me convinced" he mumbled, grazing her temple with his lips.
"Almost? Then you'd better follow me to my hotel room" she said seductively.
"You sure?" he sounded a bit hesitant. Not that he didn't want to, he had known from the very beginning they had a connection. It had been love at first sight.
"I am, Jethro" she caught his lips with hers again, pulling him toward her.
- - -
When she woke up, she was alone in the bed. Sleepily, she glanced at the watch on the bedside table. 00.29. Christmas Day. A cold wind swept over her; instinctively she pulled the sheets closer around her naked body and rolled over to see where it came from. The sight that met her put a smile upon her lips. By the open balcony window stood he, dressed in one of the dark blue robes from her bathroom.
A stray wind made the snowflakes dance toward him, landing so light and still on the robe he wore. The ones that landed on his bare skin melted instantly, leaving only small drops of water behind. He admired the beautiful view from her balcony; he had a good visual of the city of Paris, and not too far away, the Eiffel Tower shone with its presence. And the snow kept falling silently.
"Hello stranger" a voice called from behind him. A low, raspy voice. He turned to look at the beautiful woman approaching him. Her hair was messier than before; he smiled, knowing he was responsible for it. She stepped into the lights shining in from the street, and he saw she was wearing a long, white silky robe.
"Hi, my Christmas angel" he said in a low rumble, while slipping his hands around her waist. When he brought her closer, the scent of cinnamon brushed against him, silently reminding him of every breath he'd taken against her skin, every kiss he'd given her.
"So, now do you believe in Christmas miracles?" she smiled as he put his hand at her neck, trailing his fingertip in circles over her skin.
"You bet I do" he replied, locking his gaze with hers. She reached up, taking his upper lip between hers, sucking it gently. Playfully, he let his tongue caress her lower lips, causing her to gasp in surprise. He took advantage of the moment and placed his lips firmly against hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth, gently caressing hers. She let him kiss her, allowed him to be in control, for now.
He pulled away when they were both almost completely out of breath, and smiled widely down at her. He'd been right before, she really was a Christmas angel.
The End