A/N: I can't get enough of this pairing. Sorry guys! Next one will branch out to a different ship.

Holidays don't really hold much appeal when you don't have a family to go home to, no one to wrap presents for, no big meal to enjoy. I had grown to hate Christmas. When I was a little kid, Christmases were spent with my parents arguing, my mom getting very drunk, and my brother and I sitting under the table playing, trying to drown out their yelling. Once Dad left, we didn't even bother celebrating it at all. Ryan's worked for the past five. I had nothing to go home for, so I'd decided to stay at Harvard, get some extra work done.

That, of course, was the plan, but I knew that I would spend at least half of it counting down the days until everyone came back for the next semester. The campus would feel empty, even if it buzzed with other students staying here over the holiday period, until one particular student made her return. I knew it was silly, but I kept thinking that maybe she would change her mind and stay. We'd laid in bed one night and she'd told me all about Warner's family and their vacation plans. She was worried they wouldn't like her. Even though she'd known Warner since they were kids, she'd never met his parents, and she was fussing over what clothes to wear and what subjects to bring up at the dinner table, and I'd had to fight the urge to ask her not to go.

"It's going to be horrendous. Two weeks stuck with Warner and his parents, with no time to myself," she'd said, rolling her eyes. Now that she was done being vulnerable and worried, she was back to the bitchy self everyone else recognised.

I stared at her. I wished just this once she'd show some sign of missing me, but I knew that was pushing my luck. She came to me because she needed time away from Warner. There was no point in kidding myself it was anything else.

"You just shouldn't go," I said, before I could stop myself.

She laughed, "yeah right. That would go down well with my parents. 'What happened to your vacation Vivienne?' 'Oh, I couldn't face spending all that time with my boyfriend, so I decided not to go. Sorry.' Yeah right. They're expecting me to announce I'm engaged any second. The very idea of it makes me want to vomit."

'You're not the only one' I wanted to say, but I bit my lip.

The last day of the semester, I shut myself away in my room in the hopes I could avoid thinking about her, or her vacation, or any of it. I was determined to spend the two weeks off doing something productive. I kept telling myself it was for the internship, but I knew that wasn't the case. I'd worked hard enough already, received high enough grades for all my papers. There was nothing left for me to do but hope Callahan liked me enough to choose me. But I could pretend. I stayed in bed, my laptop open, a blank word document waiting for me to begin work. I couldn't concentrate.

There was a knock at the door, and I slammed my laptop closed. I couldn't be bothered to get out of bed.

"Yes?" I called, lifting my glasses and pinching my nose. I knew the door was unlocked because it always was. It had a dodgy lock and maintenance still hadn't got round to coming to look at it, so I left it unlocked.

The door swung open and a flash of dark hair and pale skin darted in, closed the door behind her. Vivienne stared at me with wide eyes, pressing her back against the door.

"Uh... hi?" I tried, wishing I'd bothered to get out of bed. I looked like a slob, in an old t-shirt and shorts – although admittedly my legs were covered by the bedsheets – and she wore what passed for casual in the world of Vivienne Kensington: chinos, a sweater, her hair up.

"I don't want to go," she hissed, looking at the door, "on vacation with Warner and his parents. I don't want to go."

I looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn't. Eventually, I said what we were both thinking, "you can't really avoid him just by hiding in here. Did you tell him you don't want to go?"

"Not... in as many words," she said slowly, "I chickened out, alright? I didn't know what to do so I came here."

I wanted to tell her to go, that I wasn't in the mood for playing second best, or covering for her. But a small voice in my head kept telling me she'd chosen me, that she'd picked me over Warner this time, and even though I knew that wasn't true – she hadn't picked me, she'd pick anything that wasn't Warner right now – it still stopped me from turning her away. And, I hadn't wanted her to go, so wasn't I just getting my own way?

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

Vivienne shrugged her shoulders, wrapping her arms around herself, "I don't know. I should call him or something, shouldn't I?"

"Probably, yeah."

She didn't move. I was growing increasingly frustrated with her. She could be so painfully stubborn when she wanted to be, and not in the way everyone else saw. She was so overwhelmed with the importance of looks and popularity and pleasing her parents when she was around everyone else, I honestly felt like the only person who had to see her like this. That was why she'd come here: she had nobody else.

"You have to call him or he's just going to come looking for you. And he'll be pissed off. Tell him you're sick or something," I told her, finger combing my bangs to avoid looking at her.

I was the only person who could get away with telling her what to do, but she still usually ignored me. When I eventually looked at her, she'd got her phone out of her pocket, and was holding it to her ear. I went to say something and she held a finger up to her lips to quiet me.

"Yeah sorry," she said after a moment, wincing, "I'm not going to be able to come... I think... no... listen... no I have the flu or something," she sighed, "I'm not arguing with you... I know how much you've... yes... yes I was looking forwa- okay well whatever. I'm going back to bed."

She took her phone from her ear and practically smashed it on my desk. It was unusual for her to have an argument with Warner where she didn't win. She'd given in too easily.

"He's really pissed off," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, pulling half the top of it down from its ponytail.

"Are you surprised?"

She frowned, obviously not expecting me to question her decision, "no. You're right, I'm a bitch. I'll just go."

"Viv- I never said you were a bitch," I said, pushing back the bed covers to get out, as she reached for the door handle.

She stopped and turned to face me, "I'd prefer it if you didn't call me that," she said, "and no, but I am one, aren't I? That's what everyone thinks, right? Even you?"

I shook my head, standing with the backs of my knees touching my bed. She was upset, and I suddenly didn't care that I was standing there in my pyjamas. I sighed.

"You're not a bitch. You're painfully stubborn. You like getting your own way, but not if it means other people have to get hurt. You pretend to hate people because that stops them from wanting to get close to you, and you know if you do let anyone get close, you'll just disappoint them and they'll leave. Because everyone always does. You dislike Elle because you wish you were like her. You wish you loved Warner in the way she loves him because it would make life easier. It would make you normal, and what your parents want, and everyone would be happier... how am I doing?"

She had tears in her eyes. I hadn't intended to make her upset, I was just being honest. There was so much more than what people saw on the surface. She dipped her head, composing herself, and I went over to her.

"I'm sorry,"

"You don't need to be sorry," she mumbled, "you're right."

I looked up at her, "spend your vacation with me?"

She didn't say anything. I reached up and pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, let my hand linger on her cheek, and she finally looked at me.

"Please?" I breathed, tracing my fingers over her jaw.

She stared at me, and I was so close to her I could feel her breath on my face, hear her swallow. Finally, she nodded, "okay."