Hello fellow Naomily lovers! After a long absence I'm here to bring you the gift a new Naomily story! It's going to be a short one, six chapter at the most, but it's something nontheless. The premise is that it will follow a number of Christmases in Naomi's life starting with 2007, and each chapter will encompass one year. And of course, there will be lots of Emily in there as well.

There are a lot of great new stories on here these days, and even though I've been gone for a while it makes me very happy to know the community is still booming.

Happy Holidays folks.

Expect the next chapter tomorrow :)

London, Christmas Eve, 2007

I hate holiday parties.

Yet here I am, dressed in a ridiculous bright green dress and complete with a red Santa hat that my best mate had picked out for me, walking towards what she touted as "the greatest fucking Christmas Eve party I'd ever been to." Apparently it was some huge party that her parents put off every year to much acclaim from their friends and family. Considering I had never been to a Christmas Eve party, it was pretty much guaranteed to be the best one I'd ever attended, but that didn't make me any less reluctant to go there. Like I said, I fucking hate holiday parties, it doesn't matter what day it's on.

I swore loudly when my heal slipped on the ice as I trotted along, reminding me how much I hated winter as well. I let out an exasperated sigh, causing the tuff of my blonde hair that had fallen in front of my eyes in my near tumble to blow out of my line of vision once more. I summoned all of my strength to continue towards the hotel where the gala was supposed to take place. This was going to be one long night.

Christmas, for me, was not generally a time for celebration. My dad had left during the holiday season, so for the first few years I can remember my holiday memories are filled with nothing but my mother and I trying to get by without him. My mum's great, don't get me wrong. But when you're six years old and it's your first Christmas without your dad around, it doesn't matter how great your mum is; it's always going to suck. For a little while, we would still decorate the house and exchange gifts in the morning, but after a few years, mum and I stopped bothering with the whole thing all together. Neither of us are Christians anyway, so we were only celebrating the mainstream consumerism that has corrupted our culture, and who needs that? No, I was much happier without Christmas. And, aside from the occasional holiday party I was dragged off to by a friend, I was pretty much able to avoid the whole Christmas season.

You can call me a Grinch, or a Scrooge if you wish, but it won't change the fact that Christmas just isn't for me. But hey, I promise I won't steal all of your presents or yell "bah humbug" if you wish me a Happy Christmas; I'm far from that cartoonish, believe me.

I finally made my way to the hotel, the biggest fucking one in town I might add. Yeah, my mate's folks are pretty rich. Both of her parents own rather successful businesses, and she herself is pretty up and coming in the fashion industry. I know, it's weird, right? Hard, cynical, political journalist Naomi Campbell best friends with a posh fashion designer. Well, admittedly at first we had hated each other's guts. For a while I was convinced I had performed some absolutely heinous deed in a past life to end up with her as my college roommate. But what can I say? She grew on me, and now we're thick as thieves.

I made my way up the steps to the front door of the hotel, careful with my footing to ensure I didn't slip and face plant into the snow. I'm not exactly the most graceful person after all, especially in heels.

Stepping into the lobby, I'm unsurprised but somewhat awed by just how amazingly it's decorated. Fucking hell, if the lobby is this nice, I can only imagine how the ballroom must look. I'm approached by a spiffy looking young bloke in a tux who queries as to whether or not I'm with the party. I nod, and he leads me through the lobby to a giant set of beautiful red doors, decorated of course with garland and Christmas lights.

He opens the doors for me, and once again I'm immediately struck by the décor of the room. The main lights are dimmed so practically the entire room is illuminated in the dull glow of white Christmas lights. There are gold and silver snowflakes hanging from the endlessly high ceiling, and garland and holly as far as the eye can see. A rather large Christmas tree was situated in the middle of the room, making any tree that we had before my dad left look like a sodding bush. People dressed in fancy suits and dresses fill the room in every corner, reminding me once again why I hate these things so much.

I'm not standing there long before I hear my name being excitedly called. I plaster a fake smile on my face, though I know it isn't really necessary, and spin around to face my best mate.

"Alright Katie?"

Her lips twist up into an amused smirk before she leans in and kisses my cheek lightly in greeting.

"I can't believe you actually came," she grinned.

"Well, it's not like you gave me much of a choice," I replied, smirking myself.

"Oh come on now, it's not like I forced you."

"I would call death threats a pretty strong form of coercion, Katie," I quipped without missing a beat.

"Bitch," she answered with mock surprise, before her features once again danced with amusement, "come on, mum and dad want to say hello."

~:~

It doesn't take long for the party to be in full swing. Katie's parents hired a big bang to play jazzy, upbeat versions of old Christmas standards and all of the guests were eating it up. I laughed as I watched yet another old man awkwardly trying to cut in and dance with a woman half his age. The creeped out look that immediately appeared on their faces was priceless every time. Of course, by this time I had made my way over the bar and was nursing my third vodka of the evening. What can I say? It's an open bar, and I already told you that I fucking hate these things.

"Enjoying yourself blondie?" I hear a gruff male voice shout from my left.

"Evening Cook," I respond without even glancing over, fully aware of who had joined me.

Cook was a good friend of mine from uni, and was Katie's fiancée as well. Cook and I had met at a mixer a couple of months into my first semester and he had, of course, immediately tried to pull me. Before he met Katie, Cook was quite the ladies man and practically perpetually on the pull. When I rebuffed his advances, explaining I was as gay as a window, instead of reacting with persistence or disappointment as I expected he instead told me it was "fucking brilliant" and that I'd have to be his wing man sometime. We've been mates ever since.

"Knocking it back a little hard tonight, eh blondie? Not havin' a good time then?"

"You know I hate these things Cook," I replied, taking a long swig of my drink, "I'm only here because Katie begged me."

"You can't blame 'er, you know excited she is that you're finally in London for the holidays."

I nodded to acknowledge the truth in his statement; the man had a point. This was the first year since Katie and I had known each other that I was in London for the holidays. During my uni years I would usually go back to Bristol and spend some time with mum, and the last few years I had spent either travelling or on a work assignment. Katie had been so ecstatic when I told her I would be staying in London for Christmas, insisting that I had to come to the annual Fitch family Christmas Eve party.

"You enjoying yourself then?" I asked, finally turning to face him. He grinned widely at me, and I could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that he already had quite a few drinks.

"You know it, Naomikins," he responded, laughing loudly before taking a huge swig of his beer.

"Hope you two aren't getting into any trouble," I heard Katie ask as she appeared in my line of sight, slipping her arms around Cook and kissing him softly on the cheek.

"No worries babe, we're doing great," Cook replied with a toothy grin.

"Glad to hear it," she responded, regarding him fondly before turning towards me, "oh Naomi, my sister is here. You've got to finally meet her."

Ah, the sister.

The one Katie had been gushing about for years; the elusive Emily that I just had to meet but somehow never had in the course of our six year friendship.

Emily had attended university in the states, so the only time she had been around during our uni years was during the holidays; when I was in Bristol. And after she graduated she travelled for a few years, working with various organizations in Malawi or India or something like that. Katie had always insisted that we would get along so well, that we would just love each other; but really, I wasn't convinced. She just sounded like such an idealist. I mean don't get me wrong, I care about the world and would do just about anything to make it a better place. But Emily had a degree in Social Justice, and seemed to think that she could just travel the world and change age old prejudices and inequalities one country at a time. I wanted to change the world, but I had long ago accepted that there were some things that you could just never change. What the developing world needed was economic strength and solid political infrastructure, not a better social justice program.

Yet Katie insisted, and insisted that we meet.

I think it probably had a lot to do with the fact that we were both gay. I mean, Katie's wonderful, but I think she assumes that just because two people are gay and single they'll automatically be attracted to each other. It's completely ludicrous really, I mean every man and woman in the world aren't attracted to each other, are they? Anyway, meeting Emily was something that was never high on my priority list; I didn't really know what I would do if I couldn't stand my best mate's sister.

"So Naomi," Katie said, snapping me out of own thoughts, "do want to go meet her?"

I shrugged noncommittally and Katie rolled her eyes before grabbing my hand and pulling me through the crowd. We squeezed through the mass of bodies on the dance floor, before Katie stopped near her parents.

"Emily, this is my friend Naomi," Katie yelled over the crowd, and I watched as the girl turned to face me.

The sight before me then made my mouth go dry.

She was absolutely stunning. I mean Katie was pretty, but Emily was absolutely gorgeous. I knew they were twins, but they really didn't look that much alike. Emily had bright red hair that flowed down to her shoulder, framing her face that was slightly less round than Katie's. She was wearing a red dress that seemed to hug every single one her small curves perfectly, before cutting off abruptly just above the knee. To top it all off, she had the deepest, most beautiful pair of brown eyes that I had ever seen. I was afraid my mouth was hanging open as I drunk her in, but she shot me an adorable half smile and stuck out her hand in greeting.

"Nice to finally meet you, Naomi."

I swallowed and nodded, uncharacteristically short on words at that moment.

"I've heard a lot about you," she continued, seeming to encourage me to actually say something.

"Uh yeah," I started," I've heard a lot about you as well."

I turned to Katie to try and alleviate some of the awkwardness I was feeling only to find that she was no longer there.

"Oh," I muttered in surprise,

"Yeah, she does that," Emily quipped as if she was reading my mind.

"I guess I should be used to it by now," I responded with a small smile and Emily laughed in response.

It was like music to my ears.

"So Naomi, Katie tells me that you're a journalist."

~:~

There are no real words to describe just how much I misjudged this girl. After spending the last hour or more talking to her, I've not only discovered that she's amazingly sweet and unbelievably intelligent, but that she's absolutely hilarious. She had so many amazing stories from her trips, and she just talked so passionately about her work. I mean, I still thought it was idealist drivel, but she made it sound interesting.

"You can't be serious! Cut off aid to Africa? Are you completely heartless?" Emily asked incredulously.

"Absolutely not," I responded resolutely, "they'd be better off for it, haven't you ever read Dead Aid?"

"Of course I have, it's pessimistic nonsense. Haven't you ever read The End of Poverty?"

"Of course I have, it's idealistic nonsense," I replied quickly, grinning widely.

She shook her head and laughed loudly before taking another sip of her drink. We were sitting outside of the party on one of the balconies in the back of the hotel. We both wrapped up in our coats and shivering, but for some reason neither of us seemed interested to make the move back inside.

"Ah, you really are a piece of work aren't you Naomi?"

"I try," I responded with a smile, earning myself yet another one of Emily's melodic laughs.

"Alright, agree to disagree?" she asked.

"Fine, but you're still wrong."

She smiled at me then; a bright, exuberant smile that I couldn't help but return. She leaned forward, placed her elbows on her knees and propped her head up with her hands.

"So Naomi, I bet I can name one think that you aren't cynical about."

"Try me," I grin, leaning back and crossing my legs, challenging her.

"Alright… puppies."

"Too much work and way too messy."

"Democracy."

"The best we have, but still barely works most of the time."

"Elephants."

"Really?"

"Okay, okay… Christmas? Come on you can't be cynical about Christmas."

In response I only looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow before jumping to her feet.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed, "how can you hate Christmas?"

"What's to love?" I shrugged.

"What's not to love," she responded stepping towards me, eyes twinkling, "Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. I mean sure, for some people it's about presents, and for others it about the birth of a religious figure. But for me, Christmas is about lights and trees and families and Christmas parties. It's about life, and appreciating what you have. It's about spending time with the people that mean the most to you, about being generous and kind, and just loving everything. It's about..."

I wasn't sure why, I but I felt entranced by her words. I got to my feet, never breaking the eye contact that she had maintained with me throughout her entire speech, and her words died in her throat. She was drawing me in, I felt like I couldn't escape her, even if I wanted to. She swallowed noticeably before continuing.

"It's about magic," she concluded, at a much softer volume than she had started.

"Magic," I echoed, stepped closer to her as her eyes flickered down to my lips. I could feel the heat of her body radiating against my own as I finally reached out and touched her hand. It was like electricity, like touching a live wire. She reached forward to grasp my coat lightly, dropping her eyes to fixate on her thumbs that were not softly rubbing of the buttons. I stepped closer, and she met me eyes once again. We were only inches for each other now. I could feel her hot breath on my lips; it was like nothing could stop this from happening.

"Wait," she said abruptly, pulling away and breaking the spell that had been cast over us.

"I have a girlfriend," she practically whispered, casting her eyes downward as if she was unable to look at me.

Well, that stopped it.

"Oh," I responded with surprise and utter disappointment.

"Yeah," she responded, shaking her head before meeting my eyes again. Her gaze was intense, so much so that I felt like I needed to look away.

"But," she started, "this is the first time that I ever really wished that I didn't."

The sincerity in her words tugged at my heart strings and coupled with the intensity of her gaze I finally had to avert my eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay," I responded, shrugging and trying to seem indifferent.

A silence hung over us as I turned away from her and looked out over the city, allowing the lights to capture my attention for a brief moment to get my mind off of the intense disappointed I was feeling.

"Maybe we can be friends?" she asked finally.

I turned to regard her once again. The last thing I wanted to do was be her friend, but something about the way she asked; the way she was looking at me. I just couldn't say no.

"Sure, we can absolutely be friends," I responded, plastering a fake smile on my face. She smiled in return, looking somewhat satisfied with my response but still seeming conflicted.

"Great… well it was nice to meet you Naomi," she told me, before dropping her gaze and making a hasty exit back into the ballroom.

I sighed loudly and cast my gaze back over the city of London.

I fucking hate holiday parties.