Disclaimer: I only own the story idea, not the characters.
Chapter One: Day Twelve
"I'm leaving." Abby announced angrily as she headed for the door.
"Abby, there's no need to overreact and get emotional about this." Connor spoke, following her to the door, grabbing her bag.
"Overreact? Get emotional?" Abby asked incredulously.
"We were fine this morning and one tiny thing mentioned, sets us off at each other's throats. S'a bit childish; don't ya think?" Connor replied, hoping to end their argument and things would return to normal.
"Tell you what, Connor; you can sit here and enjoy being childish all you want. I'm going to stay with Jess for a while." Abby forced a smile.
She pulled at the bag from Connor's grasp.
"Let go." She commanded.
Connor wasn't letting go.
"It was just a—a—misunderstanding." He stumbled. "We can sort this out."
"I've already made up my mind and there's nothing you can do to change it." Abby said sternly as she gave a firm tug and reclaimed her bag.
"That's how it'll be then? Just have a go at each other, part ways for a few hours and see how we are later?"
"See how we are in the New Year, maybe." Abby muttered before she turned and briskly walked out of the flat, slamming the door behind her.
"Abby, this is crazy!" Connor called after her.
It was useless.
Abby was already out the door and on her way to the car.
Connor stood in the hallway, Christmas music playing in the background. The cheery holiday music now drastically opposite of his current mood.
It was Christmas and now he was certain this would be the worst Christmas ever.
They had been fine and happy up until roughly twenty minutes ago when their fight had begun.
Now it seemed the relationship they had worked so hard to keep strong had shattered because of some harsh words that were said.
"Spending Christmas alone. Great." He said the last part with fake enthusiasm.
Connor turned and made his way to the kitchen to plop down on one of the stools.
Connor lifted up the messy glass of egg nog he had made and sniffed it.
Smelled alright.
He chugged some of it down and became more aware of the Christmas music being played.
"I've got my love to keep me warm."
Connor hit the next button.
"But baby it's cold outside."
Connor hit the next button again.
"He'll say are you married? We'll—"
Connor quickly hit the next button several more times until he couldn't skip anymore channels with Christmas music.
"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..."
This was just like the movies that Abby had roped him into watching several times where a couple broke up and the man was always the one that was tormented by the conspiring radio stations until he either destroyed said radio or had an epiphany.
Connor glanced at the calendar that he and Abby had been eagerly keeping track of for Christmas.
Exactly twelve days away from today was Christmas Day.
The irony of the song playing was getting on his recovering nerves.
Connor began to sing along cynically.
"Three narrowed glances, two bitter words, and all but a black eye."
"Wait a minute, twelve days." Connor muttered to himself.
"Twelve days to fix things and get back in Abby's good graces."
A half-baked plan was forming in Connor's brain. The epiphany that some of the male characters, tormented by the radio in the films, often got hit with.
"Twelve days of apologies." He mused.
"Twelve days of showing I love her." He continued.
"Twelve days of Christmas." He grinned.
"But what to do?" He muttered to himself.
Connor glanced around the room looking for more inspiration.
He saw a mess he needed to clean still; some Christmas decorations lying about; half prepared cookies; Poinsettias...
Connor clicked his fingers.
Flowers.
All girls love flowers.
Even Abby.
He picked up the phone and called the local florist.
After giving them the delivery information and billing information, Connor confirmed his order.
"Yep. Twelve dozen roses addressed to 'My Christmas Angel.'"
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