I don’t do Christmas.
I tolerate it.
The lights are too bright. The music is too loud. People smile like it’s mandatory.
And yet—I’m standing in Lily Carter’s living room wearing a sweater her mother picked out for me.
It has reindeer on it.
“I told you red brings out your eyes,” Lily whispered, grinning like she’d personally orchestrated my suffering.
“I’m taking this off the second we leave,” I murmured.
She leaned closer. “You’re adorable.”
I glared at her.
She laughed. Worth it.
Her family was… a lot.
Not in a bad way. Just loud, affectionate, unpredictable. Everyone talked over each other. Everyone touched shoulders, hugged, laughed. It felt like stepping into a different universe—one where people weren’t careful around me.
Zoey watched me like she was waiting for me to fail some invisible test.
I passed by bringing Lily a mug of hot chocolate without being asked.
Zoey smirked.
Point to me.
Lily didn’t notice how often I watched her. How I memorized the way she laughed harder around her family. How her sarcasm softened into warmth. How she glowed.
She belonged here.
I belonged… next to her.
At one point, her cousin reached for Lily’s plate—her plate—and I shut that down with a look.
He backed away immediately.
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Protective much?”
“She hadn’t finished,” I said.
She smiled. The kind that sinks into your bones.
Later, when the noise became too much, I asked her outside. She understood instantly. She always does.
The cold was sharp. Clean. Quiet.
She kissed me before I could overthink it.
I gave her the necklace then. I’d bought it weeks ago, panicked about whether it was stupid or too much. But the way her fingers trembled when she touched it told me I hadn’t messed up.
She kissed me again.
I don’t hate Christmas.
I hate being vulnerable.
But with her… it doesn’t feel like a weakness.
When we went back inside, her mom snapped a picture of us by the tree.
Lily leaned into me instinctively.
I didn’t move away.
If this is what Christmas is—noise, warmth, Lily’s hand in mine—
Then maybe I don’t just tolerate it.
Maybe I stay.
For her.
YOU ARE READING
The Exception
RomanceHe hates everyone. I just happen to be the exception... and the problem. He's the cold, untouchable boy everyone fears - and I'm the only one he ever talks to. No one knows why. They whisper about it in the hallways, staring when he walks by and doe...
