Harry heard a knock at the door. Clutching a mug of coffee and tying his dressing gown tightly, he undid the lock and opened it, squinting at the lingering autumn sunlight.
"Hello. I've got a packag─ I'm your new mail carrier." The woman standing there smiled sheepishly, turning her head to one side to look at him, her golden hair falling over her shoulder. "I'm Luna," she added.
Each day, Luna personally came to Harry's house, always to deliver mail, but sometimes for the sole purpose of conversation. He would invite her in, they would sip green tea (Luna disliked coffee), and then she would depart to complete her route. This continued for months, as the pair grew to know each other.
On Boxing Day, Harry left a note in his mailbox, sticking up the cheerful red flag in hopes that Luna would come. Minutes later, she arrived in the truck, parking across the street as usual. For once, Harry wasn't there to greet her, but Luna noticed the red flag and found the card he'd left for her with such care.
Happy Christmas, Luna. Love, Harry.
"Happy Christmas, Harry," she said in reply.