A golden shimmer is cast off of the intricately woven light strands that wrap around the piney branches of the Christmas tree. The lights have been ceaselessly shining, night after night, in the large window of the Fischart home.
For the first time, however, they are being looked upon by more than just the residents of the home. Guests of Kurt gather around the room murmuring good tidings and drinking eggnog. The smells of ham and baked crescent rolls fill the air.
Eva works tirelessly in the kitchen, cooking and preparing tonight's Christmas Eve meal. Bryn sits on the couch with Kurt's early Christmas gift to Anson- a young Airedale terrier named Ziggy (Anson's choice of name, endorsed by Bryn).
She pets the wiry brown-black fur with a hand; my mother stands beside of her, chatting to a stranger. It warms my heart to see them so comfortable with Anson's friends and family.
I'm glad they know how to get along with everyone they meet.
I snap a few pics with my two-year-old canon camera. I review my photos quickly after. I notice how on the camera screen, the vibrant reds and greens of the poinsettias poke out of the corner. My heart flutters with happiness; about that same time, I feel familiar fingertips on my arm.
I turn my head slightly to the side as Anson kisses my face with care. His hands rub my frame as he watches the party guests from behind me. "Merry Christmas Eve," He whispers into my ear.
"And where have you been?" I smirk, not looking at him.
"Chatting." He says with a deep laugh. "Did you know it's snowing outside?"
"No way!" I say. I pull away from his embrace and look out the windows. Sure enough, white flakes flutter from the sky.
I think for a moment.
"I wonder if Bryce can see these from his hospital room?" My breath fogs the glass.
It's been several days since we got the phonecall that he was being moved out of ICU. Now begins the excruciating wait for him to return to us.
Anson is silent. His fingers entwine with my own.
"Let's join our guests." He finally says. "This party was your idea."
I blush, allowing him to pull me to the center of the group. Fern and Leo make their way to us. Her pale green eyes remind me of the season.
"I'm so glad that we came." She releases Leo's hand to hug me. I squeeze my eyes shut to embrace my lifelong friend.
"You'll always be welcome here." My voice is warm.
"We're going to have a seat." She clutches Leo's arm once more and winks in my direction before they go to settle next to the other guests.
"Incoming!" I hear Anson's voice call behind me. I laugh as Ziggy springs over in my direction. Anson ruffles his pet's fur with a hand.
Unexpectedly, he clears his throat. "Can I have everyone's attention for just a moment?" He straightens his stance as he calls out across the living room.
The guests quickly go silent; I settle in curiously beside of Bryn. Anson smiles.
What's he doing? I think quizzically.
"Before we eat, I have something to say." He explains.
What could this be about?
YOU ARE READING
His Blue ✓
Teen FictionIndie Jasper is a shy, unknown writer. Anson Fischart is the school's pretty boy. Indie is not popular by any means, but Anson's status of quarterback, paired with his sandy blond hair and blue-eyed gaze have him at the top of the school's hierarch...
