A/N: Hello Readers! Thank you for coming by to read my story. This one-shot was written all the way back in December for the Christmas Wishes Compilation, which raised money for Toys 4 Tots. The story is set around Christmastime, which is just a little note so you're prepared for all the Christmas references ;) I would like to thank my beta, WendyD for stepping in at the last moment and really pushing me with all her input. Thank you Wendy! Now, I hope you all enjoy The Blank Wish List...

The Blank Wish List

Amelia Henaut's POV

The snow, the wreaths, the jingle bells, the ho-ho-ho'ing; no I wasn't dreaming of a white Christmas, more like living in the nightmare aptly named Christmas. This would be the third year, once again, where I would sit in my living room with the television on, flipping through the channels trying to find the one that doesn't involve a tree lit up by cheap twinkle lights, a man in a red suit or the cheesy cover of a cheesy song. By the end of the search, I would end up watching P.S. I Love You for the trillionth time that month. It was inevitable, but I embraced it as the one thing able to distract me from the festivities occurring right outside my door.

I moved out of my childhood home as soon as I was accepted to the University of that I truly wanted to get out per say, it was more a longing for independence, something I had yet to achieve in my youthful mind. With the money my parents had loaned me and the money I had so frugally saved, I searched for an apartment in Tacoma, where my campus was. Sadly, I couldn't find anything there within my price range and ended up in Port Angeles, three hours away from the campus thinking maybe I would earn enough money to finally rent one of the apartments closer to the school. I was wrong and had remained in this godforsaken place. Now a junior without a roommate or any human contact, my work provided money only for the necessities, and the long trek daily back and forth for class. My parents and family rarely came to visit. They were much too involved with their own lives in SoCal. With the lack of money for anything outside of what I really needed, I couldn't take the extra step to go and visit them either. All my friends at school were off with their families, which left me alone, in quiet solitude.

I got up off the couch and crept over to the window. The shades were pulled tightly so no sight of the beautiful red and green that signified the reason for the season, and keeping in the atrocity that was my home and I. I hadn't changed out of my pajamas, only taking time to brush my teeth and brushing out my untamed hair, which probably was already frizzing at every end possible, adding to my gloomy mood as much as the faded sweatshirt and sweat pants I wore. Most girls my age would flip if they knew this would happen, but I wasn't going anywhere, an emphasis on the solitary confinement though I would forbid anyone from seeing this. The reason I'd gotten up finally was the obnoxious romance was getting to me, and I needed another glimpse of the celebration going on across the street to remind me why I had watched the damn movie over and over again.

With the tips of my fingers, I delicately pulled the curtain aside enough for me to peek through. I leaned forward, just enough so nobody would notice the peeping Tom spying on the decorations surrounding their house. Just as I caught a glimpse of a family sitting down for grace, the shrill ring of my cellphone pulled me away from the window with a start.

I rolled my eyes and said to myself, "Who the hell?"

I walked over to my cellphone and checked the caller ID, seeing the word "Mom" as my phone vibrated and rang. I smacked my hand on the phone then opened it with a grunt answering with the generic, "Hello!"

"Hi Meels! Merry Christmas!" my mom replied happily.

I rolled my eyes. "Merry Christmas," I said glumly into the phone.

"What's this? No Christmas spirit? Seriously Amelia, you could be just a bit happier," my mother answered sternly.

"Well, I'm not," I said. Waiting for the invasive mother questions, we went into an awkward pause. The other end of the line remained silent, so I grudgingly asked, "So, why are you calling me?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing and wish you a merry Christmas… but apparently that isn't so." Now, cue the invasive mother questions. "Seriously, what's wrong Amelia? You were never like this last year?"

I took in a big gulp of air and tried to relax my shoulders. "Well, maybe it's the fact, my house is the most un-Christmas-like place ever when everywhere else there is an over decorated tree sitting in the middle of their living room, lights on the houses and gaudy decorations in the yard while mine remains empty. Yeah, that could possibly be it," I responded sarcastically into the phone.

"Amelia, please, if it bothers you so much, why don't you buy one of those small pre-lit Christmas trees or stay at a friend's house that has one?" my mother suggested.

I was starting to see red and had to bite my tongue prevent myself from something even ruder than what I was saying to my sweet, caring mother. "Because… okay, are you just calling to pester me on trying to have a wonderful Christmas when most likely I won't. Life is tough as it is, and I don't need Christmas making it worse."

The other end of the conversation went silent again. "I just thought… I was… how about this? Will you at least write a list to Santa or something like that? Just so you can get me off your back?"

I sighed. "Alright." I said, though I knew there was a catch.

"And mail it…" My mother persisted.

"Sure." I answered lazily, lying back on my couch.

"At a real post office." she said, emphasizing the word 'real'.

"Okay!" I said, finally releasing my anxiety waiting for this conversation to end.

I heard soft chuckles on the other end. "Bye Mom," I said.

"Bye Meels!" She said, blatantly satisfied she had turned my Christmas around.

I shut my cell phone and put it in my pajama pants. Trying to ignore my mother's instructions as well as my interest in the Christmas decorations out my window, I forced myself to stare at the television screen again. My eyes slowly began to sting with the monotony of the same old cheesy love scene played out in every chick flick. For awhile, it was always adorable, but now it was just getting bothersome. I finally turned it off and got off the couch to get my laptop out of my book bag.

The walk through the hall to my room was even more dreary than the task I was about to partake in. A traditional childish activity I had gotten away from all those years ago when I finally discovered my parents had been the Mr. C all along. Maybe it would help me get out of my rut, but I'd dug the darn thing so deep, I'm not sure anything would help. I was isolated, even within my home, being the only colorful and lively being there in contrast to the gray monochrome that surrounded me.

I opened my laptop and waited for it to boot up. When it finally played the familiar tune letting me know it was ready, I hastily clicked on the Word document link and sighed as the empty page opened. It was then my mind drew a blank. If you could've gotten whiter than the virtual sheet of paper directly in front of me, then you could imagine how void my mind was; a continuum of nothingness laid out on a clean slate. I hadn't written a letter to Santa in years, nor written a list of any kind with the expectation of getting any presents this year because of the disconnection I had created so perfectly well. I hadn't even accumulated any wants that were not a necessity. I had what I needed and what I needed was what I wanted. Now, I was faced with going against this whole philosophy I had created in my mind over the past three years of college. Now, I was expected to write a whole list of things I didn't have, but was guilty enough to want. The whole concept seemed like a foreign language to me. If it weren't for my promise to my mother, of which she would assure was kept in her hourly phone calls. She had this uncanny ability to see through all my lies, which meant I couldn't get the fact I hadn't done it past her. Frustrated, I remained in front of the computer staring at the screen waiting for the unassembled words to type themselves.

I sat there for about 15 minutes, my eyes slowly dropping as my head slid down my arm still without a clue as to what I would write on this list of which was completely irrelevant to the lifestyle I had lived up to. It was then I heard the clearly recognizable cry of a woman as she groveled after the man she had discovered she truly loved and couldn't live without. The sound perked me up, but I quickly turned around knowing the happily ever after all these Hollywood romance films ended in. After watching this one so many times, the classic scene had begun to disgust me, but this time I found myself watching and feeling an emotion I had never experienced before. Envy.

I was actually envying this less than self-respecting woman who had thrown herself vulnerably into the arms of a man she only knew she had loved for a very short time. In hindsight, that aspect wasn't what had me so jealous of the woman, but the fact she was loved, protected, and cared for. It was heartwarming. Being in isolation, while it was anger inducing, I also became more appreciative of human contact no matter how much I loathed certain people. Case in point, the cynical maternal unit. Either way, even with all the loathsome people, and though I wouldn't admit this out loud, I was desperate for some love in my life.

I had my fair share of relationships, but I was inhigh school, and never truly understood the meaning of love. At one point, I almost considered marrying an ambitious musician who was so focused on a music career, he began failing all his other classes and everyone knows what becomes of that. I didn't even really like the dude. It was only for the pride of being in a relationship. Though it was soon something that decreased every year when more people were in relationships. It was after him I'd discovered just how futile being in one-sided relationships were, so I dumped him and never dated again, which proved to be a lonely endeavor.

Now, I was dateless and clueless on how I could even find a guy to date out here in the boonies. I didn't have money to go out, and I avoided college parties for obvious reasons. All I could do now was plaster a Post-It note on my forehead with the words "Beat it boys!" then I'd turn to the life of a cat lady, fictionally married to the fattest cat, Mr. Whiskers. How I created all this in my mind, I may never know, but I can say it wasn't going to be how I would live out my life if I had any say in it. I had not pushed through three sad and lonely years of school to end up as the crazy woman who believes she can talk to cats. I planned to be a successful, independent woman and the male race wasn't going to stop me from going the distance to get there. No, they didn't need to; I was doing a fine job of it myself.

I pushed all the poisonous thoughts of needing a man to be my one true protector and caregiver, turning off the television, blocking out any triggers of these insane thoughts. I stared deeper into the computer, the whiteness of the page swallowing me whole until I caved in. It was inevitable; I couldn't go on having these mixed emotions. It would only prevent me from achieving my goals further. Unconsciously, I typed one simple word onto my wish list, "him", as I began dreaming about the man who would soon fill the void that was my blank wish list.

Seth Clearwater's POV

"Alright and remember to lock the-"

"-back door every night, got it!"

"And make sure-"

"Make sure Lexi is fed. Mom, I know!"

"Okay, I'm just so nervous. I haven't been away from the house for this long in ages. I just want to make sure, you're safe."

"Mom, I'm 18, it's all taken care of. I can keep this ship afloat on my own."

My mom sighed. "Alright." She pecked me quickly on the cheek, grabbed her last suitcase and headed out the door, calling back, "Bye Sethy!"

I rolled my eyes. Of course, she would only use that term of endearment after telling me as soon as I walked in the door from school I'm flying out to Colorado tomorrow. It was her way of being sorry for the last minute plans. Today, she packed and ready to go, but not without having second thoughts or worrying about me being home alone for the holidays since my sister, Leah, was also gone suddenly in an attempt to mend her broken heart and reflect on herself.

I heard the car rev up outside the front window. I ran up, kneeled on the couch and waved as my mom drove out of sight. I had offered to drive her to the airport to avoid paying the parking fee, but she turned down my offer saying she was perfectly capable of driving herself. I didn't argue, but it would make for a lot more productive day for me. Alone, I sink slowly into the couch as my mother and older sister enjoyed their own leisure time while I was home for the first time in weeks, hoping to enjoy a nice old Christmas with the family, and they all just scurried off like mice avoiding the rare vegetarian cat. It was depressing and had put a real damper on the short holiday season.

I stood up from the couch and began pacing around the room, pondering what I should do with all this time I had on my hands. Being me, I was rarely alone. During my younger years, I was called obnoxious, but now people saw me as friendly and outgoing. I was that person who would always add a bit more liveliness into his or her life, so everybody wanted me around. People always told me with my speaking and social skills, I could be a politician someday. Subsequently, the reason I applied to Georgetown and got accepted. I was only a short boat ride away from the political capital of America, which allowed me daily trips to immerse myself in what could possibly be my future place of employment. Though, most hours of the day involved strenuous studying and work, but it was worth the stress in my mind. If I wanted to be great, I had to work hard and if that meant spending long hours reading book after book on the Espionage act then so be it. I was in this for the long haul.

The whimper of my mom's Jack Russell terrier, Lexi, slowly made its way down the hallway adjacent to the kitchen. She was holding a thick rope in her mouth with a long face that could only be described by three words, puppy dog eyes, and did Lexi do them justice. My mom bought Lexi a few months back when she found out I was going to school and with Leah's temperamental rages that ended in long weekends of the infamous minus one, she needed a companion. She bought Lexi at the pet store in Port Angeles and brought her home the last night I would be home. My mom dropped the cage with a blanket over it directly on top of my suitcase. I was very confused and moved it aside when I heard the sound of skin and nails scuffing around on a hard surface. Instinctively, I pulled off the cover and was stunned to find a small, multi-colored fur-ball curled up in one corner of the cage.

I looked at my mom in shock and she nodded, smiling. I opened the door and she stirred a little, I presumed she was asleep, probably having a doggy nightmare of sorts. My mom reached in and pulled her out gently and held her out to me. Lexi was a cute puppy, and being completely in the moment, it was hard not to let out that long sigh of adoration. Her eyes opened, and I tensed afraid she would start yapping, but she looked up at me with her dark brown eyes and then slowly shut them again resting against my forearm. That moment with Lexi was rejuvenating, ever since my dad passed on, the household had felt empty and Lexi helped fill the hole left behind. With her around, you would never feel alone, but with my mom and sister gone on the day of all days, Christmas Eve, the empty feeling set in again. You could even hear the cool winter air blowing in through the hollowness of my home.

Lexi trotted her way up to me as a draft passed through and curled up on my lap, shivering. I turned down the heat in the house when I got here being I was a portable radiator. Lexi almost immediately stopped shivering, the heat from my lap was like her own personal heating pad. I was a werewolf, part man and part wolf, and because of my superhuman senses and tendencies, my body was nearly twice as strong as the average human. I hadn't phased in a while because of my studies and the lack of need to patrol the borders ever since our peaceful vampire neighbors, the Cullens, and my pack had pushed the Volturi out of Forks, the neighboring town. Vampires rarely ever set foot here for fear of what may happen seeing as the Cullens had an alliance with werewolves. It gave all the wolves in the pack a bit more peace of mind and a more lenient patrol schedule, the reason I had gone to college straight out of high school rather than a few years later like my sister, who was applying for schools now. It was nice, especially for someone who was a very on-the-go person and would easily become tired staying in one place all the time. The leeway given was much appreciated.

Lexi, now nice and toasty warm, started whipping me with her little chew toy, anxious to play some tug-of-war that I always rigged to let her win. I chuckled at the thought and turned to Lexi, "Alright girl, if you want to, even though you've already beaten me."

Lexi started wagging her tiny little tail and barked insistently.

"Okay, you sore winner," I chided.

She got fierce then, pulling my loose hands every which way. I held on for a few minutes providing the image she was in a good match, when I decided for the rope to be yanked out of my hands and dramatically fall to the floor on my back.

"Aww, darn! You beat me again!" I said defiantly, holding my hands up in surrender.

Lexi jumped on my bare chest and barked triumphantly as if on cue. I rolled over, grabbing her along the way then holding my little friend high in the air pronouncing her win over me.

"And Lexi has triumphed again!" I announced spinning around, holding her above my head until I pulled her down and laid her in my arms, belly side up. "YEAH!"

I tickled her belly as she kicked back and turned back over on her stomach, stroking her as if contemplating devious plots. I chuckled out loud at the deviating thought. Lexi crawled out of my hand and then spun around on the couch before jumping off the couch to go over to her little bed. Placed on the spot she'd just occupied was the remote, and I picked it up to turn on the TV.

Like the explosion of fireworks, the great snowman himself, Frosty appeared on the screen with his immortal catchphrase, "Happy Birthday!" My mom probably had been watching Christmas movies every night like we did when I still lived in the house full-time. It made me miss her that much more. Then, there was also how Leah, who had the uncanny ability to find a way to criticize every single Christmas movie we watched, something of which I didn't miss, but it was more of a tradition per say and it added to the emptiness I felt. Then, a thought came to me of the only Christmas movie Leah would be able to withstand and hold her tongue, It's a Wonderful Life.

Every Christmas, we would have to put on It's a Wonderful Life every so often just so Leah wouldn't start being even more irritable than she already was. It was the one movie we could watch in companionable silence. I had every line and portrayal of all the scenes in the movie memorized, and could even perform it to perfection. My mom even made a point in saying I probably would've been a great actor if I tried, but I was never into that and It's a Wonderful Life was the extent of my memorization abilities, which had taken multiple years to fulfill. There was no way I could remember and act out a script in a play. Anyway, that movie really symbolized our family unity to us and meant a lot to me. Before my dad died, he would also scrutinize all the movies we watched, and raved about the one movie, something we believe was a sure sign Leah was his daughter. The specific memory I remember of him watching this movie was at the Mary in the Moon sequence; he would always wrap his arm around my mother and lean into her, and recite the whole scene to her. It is still hard to think about this, even though it has been nearly 5 years. In reality, time can't heal all wounds and this was one of those. The meaning had also changed for me and the hole left by the absence of my family during the holidays opened wider. What my dad had done during that scene, what he had for my sister and I, what he had for all that were close to him, it was true, unconditional love.

Love. Thinking about it, I could feel the distance as I searched for the slightest hint to where I could find more. Family was one thing, but true love was another as my dad and mom had demonstrated throughout their whole lives, a desire I had right now. This was something quite evident to me and trying to disengage its hold on me had become harder finding myself alone on the holidays. In the midst of the deserted house I now occupied, I was searching long and hard for it, subconsciously, but still very real. It seemed so locked up from me, but it couldn't be, could it. There must be a way to find true love on the most merry of days in the most happy of seasons. Right? I just had to figure out how and where.

Awoken from my thoughts, I was brought back to the scene of the girl crying over the puddle that was once her good friend Frosty. No matter how old I was, the scene was just as heartbreaking. You couldn't help but shed a tear for the innocence damaged by fate, an uncontrollable force. Then, out of the blue came Santa, striding proud and humble through the greenhouse where she sobbed over Frosty's remains. He comforted her in a way which would be hard to ignore the bubbling hope you had inside, but still she cried over her friend's final demise. After Santa could no longer pacify the girl enough to recuperate her from the sadness she felt for her friend, a gust of cold wind is gestured in by the big man himself and Frosty's form is reconstructed. The magical hat is empowered and Frosty is alive again. I couldn't help but smile and laugh jovially, as Lexi ran up to me to join in my beaming happiness.

A thought then occurred to me. Santa, though the myth of the man himself was ruined by my sister's big mouth when I was only nine years old, it seemed as though he was still a superpower within the basis of the legend. Through the belief in him, and the belief in the paranormal, this girl managed to bring a snowman to life and when Frosty meets his demise, Santa arrives and fulfills the girl's final wish. All it took was, just one belief, in the man in the red suit, something I may need on this Christmas being deserted by my family.

From this newly born energy I'd gained by my epiphany, I raced up the stairs to my bedroom and grabbed my laptop sitting open on my desk. Moving swiftly and agile through the hallway, back down the stairs, I was back on the couch my thoughts still reeling with this new feeling of ecstasy. I opened a new word document and titled it "Seth's Wishlist (for Mr. Santa Claus)" and that was as far as I got for the moment.

Tapping my fingers anxiously, the scene of Frosty coming back to life began replaying in my head. I had lost the purpose of writing this letter. I was too into just writing out the darn thing not what I would write. I cursed under my breath and slouched back on the couch. Lexi, cuddled up against my foot, looked at me quizzically. Through my frustration, I smacked my hand against the pillow beside me propelling it all the way into the kitchen.

Why couldn't I think of what it was I had spazzed out about making me rush to write a letter to a person I knew never truly existed?

My tapping of the keys didn't last long before I started bashing them, nearly tearing my laptop apart until all this trouble renounced itself and allowed me to relax. The memory of my parents watching It's a Wonderful Life appeared in my mind and right then and there, I knew what I had to write on my list. The words flowed simply from my mind to my fingertips onto the computer screen. Once I had typed it, I smiled, after picking up Lexi again, who was trying to crawl up my leg. On the Word document, below the title was:

Her, the only one for me, the one who I would throw a lasso around the moon for.

I printed the document, grabbed the paper, addressed an envelope to Santa and then sealed it with the letter inside. Letter in hand, I proceeded upstairs, changed out of my pajamas into jeans and a faded green t-shirt, still moving around the house with one thing on my mind, mailing this most monumental of letters. Slipping on my boots, which had become a bit too tight for my feet again, and throwing on a jacket, I bounded out into the cold winter air, completely unaware of how truly important this day and the following would become.

Amelia Henaut's POV

Once, I felt I could no longer just leave the incoherent wish list opened, I printed it to the office space in our complex. No worries leaving it on the printer, pretty sure nobody would bother picking up a piece of paper saying only "him" on it. I got dressed into the darkest and unflattering clothes I had as to not draw attention to myself, especially on this holiday I despised so much. Pulling my hood over my head, covering my eyes, I exited the apartment, my pre-addressed envelope in hand dragging my purse and keys behind me, pulling them off the hanger by the door.

"Hi Amelia!" One of my neighbors whose name escapes me, cheerfully called out to me.

I ignored them intentionally and continued down the long stairwell to the office. The office space is a very open and meager space, white everywhere. I don't think you could get any more boring than this place, unless you count my apartment, but I think there is still more color there from the many painting fiascos I've had over the years, leaving little splotches of color here and there. It was this reason that led me to the decision to leave everywhere else the same dulled gray, but here it was all white. Even the computers bore a stark resemblance to the wallpaper. Anyways, knowing how inconspicuous meant a nonchalant way of doing things, I walked in, grabbed the paper, folded it into the envelope and walked right out, not drawing the eyes of the small group of people clicking away in there.

I walked out of the complex to the parking garage where I quickly found my parked car. I was lucky that the last time I parked, my mind was still in school mode, thereby a logical standpoint to park my car closest to the exit as to rush out of my house every morning, giving me enough time to drive to the school. My car was a used station wagon my mom had given me after my grandfather died. The vehicle hadn't been used a whole lot, even during the days my grandfather had it resulting in low mileage, so it was good for withstanding the long bumpy ride to the University. The car had been very inconsistent when it comes to the façade of everything I owned. It was a red car, faded very little, corny bumper stickers all over it and a broken hula dancer on the antenna which I couldn't bring myself to pull off even though it just limply hanging over the top. At least, it blocked out the radio signals so I wouldn't be persuaded to change the channel until I finally found a channel not playing the most obnoxious music of the year.

I unlocked the car, opened the door and slid into the driver's seat placing my purse in the seat next to me, a fluid motion that never seemed to change. I turned on the car, the static of the broken antenna resonating throughout my car as I drove out of the garage onto the empty highways, the holidays starkly evident all around me. I strategically shifted my head forward so I would not be pulled in the direction of the white lights that illuminated my car. I checked the clock in my car and saw 7:00, no wonder the roads were so clear. The day was looming ever closer to the only day of the year I feared and dreaded the most. Never failed to amaze me how fast the preceding day went by, just to irritate me even more.

Finally, the world around me had turned me so irritable I flipped off the radio switch, starting reminisce in the silence that swarmed me like bees to a flower except nothing stung, only relaxing me. The inner workings of my mind had once again been drawn to the letter that was still in my hand, steering through the falling snow.

Him, was all my intellectually stalled mind could come up with, as if I couldn't write "Doll" or "Racecar", invoking the naïve child within me, but no, I had to write him. Now, all I could do was just wonder why my mind had led to that. My thoughts were swirled around the possibility of being in a relationship, but as to why I decided to write it down on something as mediocre as a faux letter was beyond me. In my mind, the vision of the man I had wanted was the infamous dark, tall and lean, but now it seemed to have changed as if the snow had frozen my mind into recollection and repentance, not that I needed any repentance, but the guy I wanted had haunted me so much during my teen years.

Every guy in school I liked was either a future drug dealer or the slacker who was going to end up living under a bridge a few months later. When I asked them, they always turned me down, thinking of their rep, dating the one girl who was too nice for her own good, her whole physique screaming virgin, totally not their type. I spent many days crying over why I couldn't get them and yet in my mind, one of these guys was the one, the one who would care for me and our children. Because of all this angst I'd built up, I let myself go the last year in high school, and slept with the sleaziest and most desperate guy I knew. Now, driving down the highway, my ideals flipped on their heads from the life I had lived. I cringed at the thought. There was never any way I should've been crushing on those guys. They were nothing to me now and knowing about what I did with one of them, I felt so dirty because I gave something so precious to just anyone. I shivered and tried hard to refocus my thoughts on whom this new, better guy would be.

The back of my mind eyes sharpened to reveal a man, tall and dark. My thoughts went, Oh boy, here we go again! Then, his expression showed softness, sadness and a longing, as if he was out there looking for me too. He began to move and it was all with care and poise; he could definitely hold himself together. Then, I saw a smile, hesitant but stunning, my whole being melting with the vision. It was all quite obvious now. I needed someone who was just like me, who understood me with a willingness to be with a let-down like me who was okay with all my idiosyncrasies and eccentricities no matter how abundant they were. He could make me smile when I was down, and had the strong work ethic to be a successful person with or without me, even when I wanted him so bad.

Realizing that I was still driving, I found myself heading almost directly past the city.

Shit! I thought to myself and made a U-turn, ignoring the double yellow line, heading straight back for Port Angeles.

Nearly missing the car that suddenly showed up behind me and receiving some very elegant gestures from the driver, I was on my way to mail the letter. Port Angeles looked so nice this night it was awful. Going down Main Street, I was nearly blinded by the reflection of Christmas lights bouncing off the miles and miles of sparkling garlands. The pain of seeing all this Christmas spirit of which had evaded me so by living in an apartment on the most remote areas in town while giving up at finding or deserving true love in my life, had lessened a little understanding why I was here. It all seemed a bit too childish leaving a note for Santa, but if the power of belief in the mystical could make me believe that it were possible for me to get me the man of my dreams, then so be it.

I continued weaving through the streets of the city, my speed focused on the task at hand. If I slowed down, my mind wandered and there would be no way for me to actually get this shit mailed. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally slowed down enough to turn into the post office. It was almost like seeing heaven driving in there, my breath rapidly changing its course between my nose and mouth, the anxiety of sending the letter more apparent. When I parked the car, I had to sit for a few minutes trying to catch my breath before making my way over to the blue mailboxes on the other side of the lot.

After I was breathing normally again, I unlocked the doors, grabbed the letter and flung open the door, letting in a huge gust of cold winter air. I pulled my sweatshirt tightly against my body, pulling the hood down further than it should go, lessening the sting of winter. I shoved the letter into the tight opening between my elbow and my left side, while I held myself closer on my right side, continuing to encase the heat in my sweatshirt and bowing my head, shielding my face as the first frozen droplets graced the already whitened floor of the world, or Washington, more specifically.

I walked swiftly towards the mailbox, avoiding patches of ice and people just the same. Luckily, there weren't many people out today. When I finally got to the line of blue tin compartments, the inconsistent pieces of ice were now floating to the ground, thousands by the second. Even with all I had on my mind, it was hard to deny the beauty of the falling snow. It amazes me how delicate a piece of the fierce opposition called nature could have mystified me, even when I had been fighting that opposition for so long. I smiled, truly smiled right at that moment, the warmth of happiness filling me up. Utilizing this surge of heat, I grabbed the letter with my bare hand, the cold wind grabbing at it. I opened the box and quickly put the letter into the slot, folding my hands once again as the heat was washed away by the breeze.

My smile turned into a stoic line as I turned around, running head on into a green shirt. I stumbled back from the impact, hitting the mailbox. I groaned in agony, rubbing my shoulder where I knew the black and blue spot would be forming.

"Sorry miss." The perpetrator said. "Lemme help you there." He reached out his hand, which I took out of courtesy, as he pulled me up.

"Thanks," I said, brushing my hair aside, catching a glimpse of this person, whom I discovered to be a gorgeous man's face.

My heart started racing in my chest. It was him. The one I had been waiting for, tall and dark, but not mean. His eyes were gentle, a kindred spirit and it was obvious in his whole demeanor. He walked with a confident poise and obvious intelligence, but boy was he hot! I nearly melted when he smiled down at me, my eyes hidden from his. He reached behind me and slid something into the mailbox I had been knocked into, before beaming down at me again, my knees weakening. He was just so beautiful with his brown hair and chocolate eyes to match. His smooth russet skin was the icing on the cake and it took all my willpower to stop me from licking it off. I purposely blocked out my face with my dark hood, even though the sunset was gone and the street lights illuminated the winter wonderland I was caught in.

Before I could turn away, the awkward silence creating a huge gap between us, he stumbled on behind me and merely stuttered out, "Hey, I'm Seth."

I backtracked a bit, turning my eyes down as to not say anything unintelligible to the gorgeousness that was this Seth, "Amelia," I muttered.

"Amelia…" He coughed, feigning the words that blocked his airways. "You wanna go for some cocoa?"

Still in a state of shock, my mind in disconnect, I lied, "S-sorry, I've..." I paused. "I have to be at… uhhh…"

He chuckled at my inability to form a fib, "Yeah, I understand." He laughed some more as I bowed my head even lower in shame. "Sorry, I'm not usually so forward and…" He began.

My mind came back into perspective and the regrets came like bullets straight through my heart, but yet I still lived, tortured by my stupid past mistakes. Like a switch was flipped, I was all over him, ranting out all my anger on this innocent man, Seth, I just met, "Well, sorry isn't good enough mister. Now, you run along to your friends at the restaurant while I go home and enjoy my jolly holiday. Good riddance!"

I spun on my heel and speed-walked all the way to my car, sliding right into black ice, falling backwards from the slick surface, caught, once again, by Seth. I grumbled a "Thanks", but was flustered and feeling exposed by my hood falling away from my face and exposing more than I cared to be seen.

"Hey, can you please let me go? I'm pretty sure there is some law against this-"

He cut me off this time and chimed in, "Okay, I'm sorry, really sorry, and you know what maybe you're not the only one alone for Christmas? Maybe you're not the only one who would rather the holiday was already over with! Maybe…" He stopped, his shoulders rising and falling with angry breaths.

I looked at the ground, contemplating what to do. It seemed, I would only torture Seth with my indecision and sarcasm, if I didn't decide then and there to go with him to the diner, something that was a huge step for me. With a big sigh, I said, "Well… maybe I could go for some cocoa. It is a bit chilly out here."

He grinned at me with his brilliant smile again and before we knew it, we were sitting at a table enjoying rubbing our cold hands on warm cups of hot chocolate.

Seth Clearwater's POV

Everything had happened almost too quickly for my memory to recall. I had driven from my house with only one thing on my mind, getting that letter mailed. It was as if a police car was chasing me, yet there were no sirens or stirs amongst the few cars on the highway. I just drove all the way to Port Angeles, moving amongst the familiar streets until I arrived at the post office. My mind was still reeling with the idea of getting this letter mailed in one of the line of boxes. I ran up to them, stopping for a moment, just as a black figure cleared my vision and rammed into me head on.

"Sorry miss," I said, reaching my hand out. "Lemme help you there."

She, as I discovered, brushed the hair covering her face aside and said unemotionally, "Thanks." Then pulled herself up with my hand.

She startled in my grasp and froze, rooted to the spot. I felt the warmth then enter my body as I never had before. Being a werewolf had its perks by regulating your body temperature to the warmest it could be, but this was a different type of heat as if hope had settled in again for me and my begrudging ways were now blocked by a bubbling happiness. Something about this girl had awakened something dormant inside me. I wanted to know more about this girl, who chose to hide her features from me, which may have been an asset for both of us.

I saw her toes turn, the silence weighing heavily down on us. I was flusted but managed to stutter out before she could leave, "Hey, I'm Seth."

She halted for a moment, a bit hesitant to make another step towards me. She then said silently, "Amelia."

The name brought even more warmth and I was completely swimming in it. "Amelia…" I repeated, trying to think of what I could do to stall this woman from her race to get away, where I could discover why this sudden connection had arisen at such unexpecting of times, "You wanna go for some cocoa?"

Smooth, Seth, real smooth…

She began to speak, her voice cracking as if she rarely spoke, "S-sorry, I've..." She paused. "I have to be at… uhhh…"

I let out a chuckle, her inability to lie quite amusing to me, "Yeah, I understand." I continued to laugh, ignoring her bowed head. "Sorry," I started, when her voice had risen to full power and practically knocked me over.

"Well, sorry isn't enough mister! Now, you run along to your friends at the restaurant while I go home and enjoy my jolly holiday. Good riddance!"

She turned on her heel and speed-walked all the way to her car. I moved after her, a bad wall of emotions threatening to tear me down. She slipped on some ice and I jumped forward, just in time to catch her, giving me a glimpse of long brown hair. This obviously displeased her, as she pulled her hood tightly over her forehead.

"Hey, can you please let me go? I'm pretty sure there is some law against this-"

I cut her off, trying to wipe the tears away, "Okay, I'm sorry, really sorry, and you know what, maybe you're not the only one alone for Christmas? Maybe you're not the only one who would rather the holiday was already over with. Maybe…" I stopped, my breathing heightened by all the energy I used to get those words out and controlling my inner emotions.

She looked at the ground, her expression very much hidden by her hood, making the mystery within her more intriguing, "Well… maybe I could go for some cocoa. It is a bit chilly out here."

I grinned at her, her smile obvious beneath the shadows of her hood. I wrapped my arm around her and directed her to my car. The moments after that were a blur due to the happiness that had now blinded me from anything except her face, her hair, her scent and most importantly, her smile. We drove all over Port Angeles for hours, both of us clueless to where we could go on Christmas Eve night, time flying past us as it was nearly eleven o'clock at night now and we were trying to find another diner that was open late to get some nice warm cocoa. After a plethora of crazy twists and turns later, we found a small little shop, advertising hot chocolate as its specialty. We rushed inside, the snow falling harder now, asking hurriedly for some steamy chocolate goodness. The man behind the counter laughed with a nostalgic ho-ho-ho. I didn't have time to look up, but I caught a glimpse of a white beard, something of which I didn't have time to take notice of before.

Amelia and I found a small table in the corner, away from the few patrons people who were in this little coffee shop at this time of night on this most sacred day of the year. A very disgruntled waiter slapped our drinks on the table and from the residue his hands left on the cups, I wasn't sure I wanted to look any further than that.

"Anything else?" The waiter asked with a quipped tone.

Amelia piped in. "No, that's fine. Thank you."

He hurriedly walked away, the stench of body odor still resonating around us. I squirmed and held my nose, whispering, "Apparently deodorant is not in his repertoire."

She laughed, like a soft bell tinkling, like the one that rings in It's A Wonderful Life. I wondered if an angel had gotten his wings just from hearing her rare giggle, something I suspected from her always hidden demeanor, as her eyes were still focused on the table, her hood blocking my view of her face, and one I had yet to truly gaze upon.

"So… what are you doing mailing a letter on Christmas Eve? A bit strange considering," I asked.

She grinned devilishly in response, taking a sip of her drink. "I was about to ask you the same question, since you were doing the same thing."

I was taken completely off guard by this one, but I replied in earnest, tactically twisting my words, as to avoid spilling what I was really doing, "What do you think I was doing?"

"Well… what do you think I was doing then?" She said, flipping my question back in my direction. Man, was she good!

My lies all slipped up, I answered, "Well, seems most likely you were mailing a letter to Santa, no matter how late it is."

She giggled, "Nothing's too late for Santa." And the momentum of our conversation stopped, her words throwing me back. Was she legitimately mailing a letter to Santa too?

I gave a vague answer in hopes of avoiding the silence again. "I guess so, if you believe in him."

She took a slow sip of her cocoa and lifted her head up a bit higher, showing the faint outline of her lips. "So, were we both mailing letters to Santa?"

"Apparently, we were," My thoughts echoed by my careless voice.

She let out a happy sigh and grinned again. "At least, I know I'm not the only one who is crazy enough to do something like that or is so afraid of her mother to follow through with something like that."

I smiled quickly and turned the glass cup in my hands, as if shivering from something that happened, no matter how unlikely it was for me. "Yeah, or desperate enough."

Everything was coming out of my mouth so quickly, not giving my brain a chance to filter what I would normally never even dare to tell anyone about. Something about Amelia had me tongue-tied, yet comfortable enough to tell her about the audacity and desperation to mail a letter to Santa. Yet, she had done so too. We had met converging at similar paths, the connection was starting to freak me out as I'm sure it was for her. There was a voice in the back of my mind chiming in, but I couldn't make out what it was saying. I continued talking with Amelia, ignoring the voice.

We talked about everything, from what we planned to do after college, our dreams, all the conceited needs we wanted, yet we were okay with telling each other. It was so easy talking to her about this stuff, but as with the conversation before, the parallels among us was creeping into our conversation, threatening to destroy what he had to delay our separation. Finally, at about 11:50, ten minutes until Christmas truly began and Santa made his ride, she abruptly ended our chat.

"Aww shit, it's almost midnight! I should be getting home," Amelia announced.

I tried to think up something quick, so she wouldn't have to leave so soon. "Okay… hey, give me your number, maybe we can get together another time to talk?"

She grinned from her hood, "Sure, Seth. I'd like that."

We whipped out a piece of paper, as the clock slowly spun to 11:55, five minutes until Christmas. I wrote down my number on it and she sent me a text, telling me her name, "Amelia Henaut", it was beautiful in every way.

"Bye, nice meeting you!" She said, putting the piece of paper in her purse, where I was certain it wouldn't be found again.

She slowly opened the door, the clock turning to 11:59, and in a surge of passion I chased after her. I flung open the door and grabbed her by the hood, yanking it off her head. She cursed as I turned her towards me and we were at a standstill. I looked directly into her eyes, her beautiful gray eyes, which acted like granite holding me to this Earth, gravity's job irrelevant. The world disappeared from around us and all that was left was her and I. We were tethers for each other, forces to be reckoned with that worked in a way where apart, our bodies would fall into oblivion as they had done before our meeting. I now understood what the voice was saying in the back of my mind, it was saying imprint. Amelia was my imprint, my soul-mate to which all werewolves were destined to meet and I had met her on the day of all days. The clock, now striking 12:00, was music in the background of our momentous connection. It was Christmas day, the most magical of days, and this had happened to us.

She looked at me shyly, though the spark ignited in her eyes proved her desire for me wassuddenly heightened as mine was for her. The snow falling around us, the crisp air only enhanced the new, electrified passion for one another. "Merry Christmas, Seth," She said.

"Merry Christmas, Amelia!" I said, cupping her exposed face with my warm hands. In an instant, we were pulled together as if by a magnetic force, our lips crushing against each other.

I was totally captivated by her, as she was by me. Destiny had no other plans for us, but to bring us together, I knew. She made no hesitation to me as we felt each other fully with just this kiss. She was beautiful in the way she came in contact with me, searching my lips, her own lips the taste of butterscotch, which melted between us and made me gasp in pleasure. We pulled away from each other, in time to see the little bundle of mistletoe descend from the sky above us, landing directly between us. We grinned and kissed again oblivious to the world happening around us we heard the jingle of bells and looked up just as Santa and his eight reindeer flew over us, spreading a dust of Christmas joy across America, looking down at us, both our letters in hand as he waved and gave us a knowing wink. We were both taken aback by his appearance, a disregard to our parent's story, but could only take it in earnest as his voice boomed out the immortal phrase:

"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

And soon after, Amelia and I were driving home, happier than ever thanks to the man in the red suit and our "blank" wish lists.


A/N: So... what did you think? I would love to hear your opinion, so please leave me some nice reviews :) Thank you!