On a crisp, white Christmas Day looked across the snow-covered street at the same house she used to frequent as a child. She had heard second hand from her mother that sometime during the night that he had returned but she had yet to hear from the man himself and though she had no reason to doubt her mother, she couldn’t quite believe the rumour until she had witnessed him for herself. The curtains in what had been his bedroom on his last stay were closed over – another sign that someone had at least stayed overnight – and she found herself hoping that it was him. As yet another car parked across her driveway she ducked away from the window. Guests had been coming and going for the last hour or so and whilst she didn’t want to be rude to the many family members that had turned up, she couldn’t face the endless questions that usually came with them or them potentially coming into her room uninvited. She heard the slamming of car doors followed by at least two people trudging through the snow, the crunch of their footsteps getting louder the closer they got to the house. Her parents’ voices were soon heard trilling from the front door directly under her window. Another set of familiar voices followed and she recognised them to be one of her aunts’ and uncles’. So far she had counted four aunts, five uncles, several cousins… and that was just the beginning. When she was sure that everyone had gone inside – mainly by the door closing and the voices now coming from the hallway – she peeked back out of her curtains. The curtains across the street were now wide open and there didn’t seem to be anyone in there from the shapes that she could just make out in the shadows projected in the dull light. She picked up her phone only to put it back down again. If he was home he would have told her – wouldn’t he?

The annual family gathering was in full force when finally decided to emerge from her room at around eleven am. For as long as she could remember she had never spent Christmas in her own family home more than a handful of times. It was just the norm for them to gather at one person’s house or the other’s, a different family member hosting each year and she wanted to make the most out it now that it was her parents’ turn. It had been an immense release of pressure when she realised that she wouldn’t have to travel or be made to endure awkward questions about if she was dating anyone and when she was likely to be moving out (despite her having done so six months prior); she could simply take herself to her childhood bedroom, go visit friends or get so drunk that she wouldn’t remember them. The thought of being able to hide from social interactions brought her comfort and joy. She had even dressed for the occasion in a hideous light-up jumper, silly hairband with small, fake presents hot glued to it and snowflake earrings that she had found in the bottom of a drawer, daring to think that she might actually stand a chance of enjoying herself this year. That was until she entered the living room. More aunts and uncles had joined them with yet more cousins and her only living grandparent – her grandmother – seemed to be in her element nestled in between everyone handing out presents. When she entered the room their sole focus was on her. As her family stared at her oddly she wished for the ground to swallow her up. For some reason she had been the only one to take the memo that tacky, themed jumpers and accessories were a must seriously. She raised her hand up to greet them, her cheeks almost the same shade of red as her jumper and dashed behind them, heading for the kitchen. She thanked her lucky stars that – as it was Christmas – eleven AM was a socially acceptable time to drink. She reached into the back cupboard for her hidden supply of that she had buried beneath a stock pile of paper towels and toilet paper and wrenched off the lid, downing a good shot or five of the burning liquid hoping to drown out the laughter from the next room that only seemed to be getting louder with each sip. She put the cap back on and buried the bottle again, bracing herself for when she inevitably had to go back. The laughter ceased briefly, mumblings from a female voice relaying something to rest only just audible over an otherwise deafening silence. The voice was far too hushed for the person speaking not to be talking about her and her suspicions were confirmed when she was able to make out her name amongst a couple of other phrases; embarrassing… a joke… stupid. She dug out the bottle again. This was going to be a long day.

The stroke of midday brought with it a hearty knock at the door. Despite wanting to drown herself in her , had been spending the last ten minutes in her bedroom trying to sober up enough to face her family. With the voices in the living room having resumed their normal, over-enthusiastic pitches she could only just hear her parents stumbling over their guests to get to the front door over a medley of Christmas songs. She peered out of the window, craning her neck to get a view of the people below her at the door. All of her family and extended family were already sitting in her front room so she wondered who it could be. All she could see was a mass of black hair but she knew instantly who their guest was. She rushed down the stairs, the excitement sobering her up enough to not fall down them. When she got to the door her eyes locked with one other person.

“Zayn!” She practically launched herself at him and he stumbled back onto the fresh snow that had fallen since they had welcomed their last visitors.

He chuckled as he held onto her, trying not to fall. “Hi.”

She pulled him inside out of the cold as her parents watched, a surprised look on their faces at their daughter’s sudden change of mood. Closing the door over, her mother offered to take his coat. As he undid his zip, caught sight of what he was wearing underneath it and began to laugh so hard that when she finally regained her composure her sides hurt. He, too, was wearing a tacky Christmas jumper that – if there had been a competition – would definitely win over hers and it relieved her to no end to know that someone else was willing to look like a fool. His jumper put the flashing reindeer earrings she had swapped her snowflake ones for to shame. The earrings were a silent affirmation that, despite what her family thought, she was going to wear what she wanted if it made her happy, that their opinions didn’t matter because for the other 364 days of the year when she didn’t see them they never made an effort to see her so why should they care what she wore? It wouldn’t affect them in the slightest even if they did.

She hugged him again. “You didn’t say you were coming.”

He shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise. That’s for you, by the way.” He pointed at the large gift bag dangling from her father’s hand, a longer bottle bag next to it.

Her mother, having returned from putting his coat in the spare room, pointed up at the door frame. “Well, would you look at that.” ’s face paled as she saw what her mother was referring to. Between the last lot of family arriving and Zayn now appearing at the door someone had put up a sprig of mistletoe. She shot her mother an ‘I-could-kill-you’ look. Her mother batted her hand at her. “You have to do it now otherwise you’ll have bad luck going into the new year. silently cursed at her mother’s superstitions and to whoever had thought them up. By now other members of her family had gathered behind her parents in the door way to the living room to see what was going on.

spoke quietly so that only Zayn could hear her. “I’m so sorry about this.”

He just shrugged again. “I guess we have to. I wouldn’t want you to have bad luck for an entire year.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Only if you’re sure.”

Various family members began surrounding them with chants of “kiss! Kiss!”

He nodded. He was already puckering up.

Well, ok, then she thought as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the right. They moved in awkwardly, not quite fitting together. They opened their eyes. Whilst had gone to the right, Zayn had gone to his left. They attempted it again only to end up with the same result. Maybe something was telling them that they shouldn’t be doing this – even if they both ended up with a terrible year ahead. After a few misses, Zayn decided to take charge. He placed his hands on top of her forearms and held her in place. She let him take control, grateful that he had as by now she was far too flustered to do anything. As his lips met hers she relaxed and she could no longer hear the chanting of her family. It was as if the whole world had just fallen away and left them to it. There was something different to his usual friendly kiss, though. Something that felt urgent, as though he was baring his soul to her and praying that she felt the same way. She kissed him back with the same urgency, this time not caring if she was potentially embarrassing herself or her family. They pulled back, grinning at each other. Their bubble was soon burst by the squeals of some of ’s cousins, their delight apparent. They joined her family in the next room, sitting so close that they were practically on top of each other and unable to take their eyes off of each other. The time together seemed to melt away in a flurry of flirting and sweet kisses spurred on by the encouragement of booze and family plotting.

Christmas lunch had flown by in a sea of drinks and enough food to feed a small army and before they knew it it was after three pm. Once the washing up had been done, they made their way back into the living room, Zayn trailing behind . With some aunts and uncles still sat at the dining table playing card games, ’s parents sat down on the couch and a few of her cousins took up the limited floor space around the coffee table where a game of Monopoly. Her grandmother sat on one of the armchairs leaving only one spare. “, Zayn; you’ll have to squeeze onto that seat together. We don’t seem to have any chairs left.”

rolled her eyes. “Ah, yes; funny how there were exactly enough seats for all of us at lunch but now that some of the family has gone home and we’re settling down to play board games all the seats seem to have disappeared.” She shot a knowing look at her mother who pretended not to hear her properly and instead handed them another glass of Buck’s Fizz each. Zayn chuckled and pulled her onto his lap as he sat down. “You’ll just to sit on me then.” She couldn’t complain. Despite trying not to think of it, most of the year she had been hoping for this moment, for him to like her the way she had been denying that she liked him but for something was a little off. Whilst she couldn’t deny that the day’s events were shaping out to be exactly what she had been wishing for, something that, had she been a kid, she would have written in her diary as being the ultimate Christmas gift, during dinner it had all become too clear that they were moving far too fast. Maybe it was the festive spirit or the alcohol making her go along with it. Maybe she was just inexperienced and things only seemed like they were going too fast because they had been friends for years and they had never once explored this side of their relationship before. Whatever it was it was getting in the way of her enjoying herself. She shook her head, making a conscious effort to immerse herself in the game unfolding in front of her, thinking that if they focused on something other than each other that things would be put back into perspective and she that could catch her breath. Zayn, however, hadn’t seemed to notice the incredible pace they had been hurtling at and kissed the back of neck. She leaned into him deciding to just go with it and re-evaluate whatever they were later. For now she would just enjoy being close to him and allow herself to embrace the magic of the season.

A knock at her bedroom door later that evening caught her somewhat off guard. At around four Zayn had left to spend some with his own family with the promise of returning to go with her to a mutual friend’s house for drinks. She opened the door, smiling at him standing before her. He took a half step closer to her, putting his hands on her face and kissing her.

“Are you ready to go?”

She nodded, picking up her bag. She had been hoping that spending a few hours apart would force them into a slower pace after having some time to digest just exactly how they were feeling towards each other. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs she put on her jacket and shouted ‘see you later’ to her parents who were slumped over in a food coma on the couch. He took her hand guiding her to the taxi he had waiting for them. They nestled up together in the back as the driver set off towards the next town over. When they arrived they found themselves a space to sit, getting drunk off of lust and alcohol. It only took an hour or so before the excessive flirting and stolen moments around friends became too much to bear and they found themselves at ’s flat. Zayn’s hands roamed over her body, pressing her up against the door as his teeth nipped at her neck. She fumbled for her keys. The key scraped in the lock and within a few short seconds they were inside, their jackets cast aside as they began to undress each other. It didn’t take long for the rest of their clothing – or her inhibitions – to be lost to the floor.

When woke up the next morning a small smile played on her lips, her eyes still firmly closed as she relived the glory of the night before. Upon reaching out to comfort herself with the warmth she expected from him, she was disappointed to discover that the sheets were icy cold to the touch and she briefly wondered if the night before had merely been a dream. Opening her eyes, she grabbed the unoccupied pillow next to her and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent of his cologne drifted up to meet her nostrils. He had definitely been there. Her stomach tightened. She couldn’t hear any noises coming from the bathroom or downstairs. Maybe he had gone home early so as not to disturb his parents? She searched for any sign of a note or even a text message, only growing increasingly deflated when she realised that he hadn’t left one.

She waited a few hours before she checked again, by now her gut an anxious mess, and whilst she noticed that he had read her messages, he hadn’t replied to her once. She sent off a final text asking for a sign – a few words, an emoji, for anything – that they hadn’t made a mistake but still she was met with a wall of silence. A chill started to take over her even though she wasn’t cold.

Giving up on receiving an answer and the magic of Christmas well and truly banished, she took to her bed again pulling the duvet high over her head and enveloped herself in its soothing heaviness. Even without the hangover she felt ghastly ill, a vast, twisted knot churning over in her stomach as the realisation of a one night stand hit her. How could he do this to her?

Go to top