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Clang !
The clatter above him bursts Sunday's dream bubble.
It's been about two weeks since fresh weather started dropping frigid gifts on the windows and roof.
Sunday was rapidly getting used to sounds, so winter dissonant morning interludes didn't bother him all that much for long. But this just sounded like a frozen cloud fell off the sky and shattered on the bronze-colored slate.
CLANG !
The second metallic echo sparks a shiver from the tips of his toes to the tip of the white wings in his hair. They instinctively retract to cover his nose –Why was it suddenly so chilly in there ?
The young man turns under the sheet, just to notice this may come from the absence of the usual warmth next to him.
CLANG ! CLANG !
Sunday's heart jumps in his throat, from concern this time. Concern of which experiment the other man living in this house was doing again.
"Anaxagoras ?" He calls as he sits on the edge of the bed.
The only answer he gets is a louder, longer cacophony of muffled rumblings. If the din was coming from the kitchen, he would've thought one of the shelves had been spilled.
Except it wasn't coming from the kitchen.
Sunday shakes his head with a half-amused half-annoyed roll of eyes as he raises his body and his voice.
"What are you doing, love ?"
Since the improved unknown drum set was persisting, the man hurries across the kitchen barefoot –his pair of fluffy slippers can wait, Anaxagoras probably cannot.
Sunday reaches the entrance door right when a loud crash rings out. A final cymbal strike.
He slams the door open and...
... finds himself face-to-face with the hanging upside-down body of his partner tangled in golden garlands.
Oh dear.
"Good morning, angel." Anaxa simply says like he would salute him every common day.
He naturally initiates the morning conversation about the night, their dreams, and if the heating system had been effective enough, but Sunday was only half-listening, focused on untying the golden knots trussing up his boyfriend.
When the green-haired scientist falls (clumsily) in his arms after a few minutes of unknotting focus, Sunday doesn't have to ask him the how and the why he ended up on the roof.
The modest facade was sprinkled with touches of golden, silver, turquoise and red.
The garlands were arranged on the roof to form a star. (The shape was still discernible, though somewhat indistinct in places.) Pine cones and stars cut from metallic paper were hanging from tree branches glued to the corners of the exterior wall. Banners of long white, red, and purple feathers —thicker than Sunday's—were wrapped around the chimney.
It looked a bit experimental, a bit messy, but so typical of Anaxa, made with so much passion and care, that Sunday could do nothing else but admire this decoration like the most splendorous piece of art of a museum.
"Anaxa... It's beautiful. Really."
"Like the person I made these for," the other man says, taking Sunday's warm hand in his frozen one.
Anaxagoras narrows his eyes with focus, evaluating the result of his experimentation.
"The symmetry needs some adjustments," he comments, wincing at the sight of a branch slowly tilting towards the ground. "If you had slept ten more minutes, you would have discovered perfection."
Sunday smiles fondly. "I already have something close to it."
He plants a quick peck on the tip of Anaxa's cold nose.
"Go back in the warm, we will achieve your work after breakfast, shall we ?"
--------
When he lived alone, after his sister's death years ago, Anaxa had the very bad habit of skipping meals when he was busy –not even taking a snack. But since he moved into this elegant house in the outskirts of the city with Sunday, the latter had established a meal routine for both of them and demanded it was scrupulously followed.
And how could the erudite resist a plate of homemade pancakes covered by a drop of honey shaped like a heart ?
Sunday got the recipe from his friend March 7th, who would soon join them along with plenty others to celebrate Christmas all together.
It will be the first time both Anaxa's and Sunday's loved ones are gathered ; some years, one of the two was invited by the other's family and (or) friends.
Now that they shared a house, some of Anaxa's friends Phainon and Tribbie and some of Sunday's friends Caelus and Stelle had insisted on jumping on the occasion to officially inaugurate the beginning of their life together. And what better way than a big family party gathering ?
What better gathering than Christmas ?
Anaxa had even added his own idea : What better official inauguration of him and Sunday's life together than to formalize–
"Anaxagoras ? Something's wrong ?"
The older man slightly jumps on his chair. He raises his head from his plate to look into his lover's deep and preoccupied golden eyes.
"You look distracted these days," The angel points out in a tone attempting to be reassuring, but a glimpse of worry is piercing it. "Is it the fact there will be a lot of people ? Preparing everything for their arrival ? Or... something else ?"
A part of Sunday's daily attention is always kept on the man he loves, to the point he notices every trembling breath, every frustrated frown, every nervous flutter of lashes. Neither of them could hide anything from the other for long, and lying was a word banished from their personal dictionary anyways.
But right now, Anaxagoras couldn't reveal the truth.
What he has been thinking about for months now must stay in his mind and known only to the few he confided in until Christmas Eve.
"I just..." He swallows and clears his throat from the weight of covering the truth. Well, what he was about to say as a diversion still actually contained a bitter reality.
"...I wish she was here."
Sunday moves his chair closer and places his hand over Anaxa's. "I know..."
Sunday himself had a very strong and close bond with his own sister Robin, he couldn't imagine how painful he'd feel if he lost her. She was his only blood family left, and Anaxa doesn't have one anymore.
Sunday never met Diotima but doesn't doubt one word from Anaxa that she was a brilliant mind and a kind soul. He could understand his sorrow too much.
"We are a family, my love."
The scholar quietly lowers his gaze at his boyfriend's thumb tracing circles over the back of his hand.
He has to resist the will to correct him that they were a couple, but not technically a family. Not yet at least...
But soon, he hoped.
~
Everyone was planned to arrive in a few days, on December 24th in the morning. Even though they will give a hand to make the dinner and finish the inside decoration, Anaxa and Sunday are nevertheless the ones in charge of arranging everything for the night, installing the tree and of course, each of them has to play his role in the general gift exchange.
Anaxa was delighted by the person he drew, he didn't need to think long about what to offer them : he got the ideal gift, and it was the ideal moment to give it.
It had been a bit trickier for Sunday, perfectionist as he his. Lucky him, the person he picked was one of Anaxa's friend he was getting along the most with, and they shared tastes in many things. Thus, after a few days of cogitation, he found a present that he was quite confident they would like.
Their presents were already packed and stored in a drawer or under a desk.
Waiting for a tree to be put under.
After finishing their breakfast and getting changed into classic sober winter ensemble, Sunday took out a box full of decorations they chose together in the shopping center of the city. (They did their Christmas shopping way in advance to avoid the moments shops would be too buzzing with people. Neither of them was a huge fan of crowds and noise.)
They didn't need to buy or cut a pine tree : Anaxa had grown one. In one week. In his personal laboratory, fitted out in the backroom of the house.
Sunday wasn't supposed to know until the tree reached exaclty two meters, however he had gotten the facts at the end of the 4th day. A growing pine needle had stuck into the door lock and the only way for Anaxa to keep the incident secret was to cross the garage to leave the laboratory. Unfortunately, he wasn't expecting Sunday to be walking towards the living room, and the winged man would obviously not remain silent at the sight of his partner coming back from the back of the house by the entrance door.
(They fixed the lock the following day).
Anaxagoras was definitely bad at surprises, huh ?
But the result was worth it :
A 2 meters and 1 centimeter tall pine tree, with needles fading from emerald green to mint, with touches of cyan mixed with periwinkle at the tip of some needles and amethyst mixed with amber on some others.
Their tree of life, their tree of love.
The two men let their imagination and instinct guide them while they dress up the experimental tree with bulbs, pine cones, little wooden birds, glimmering white fluffy garlands... No need for an electric one ; the tree itself glows when the light fades out.
Sunday makes sure to hold the stepladder while Anaxa puts a height-branch shining plastic star on top of the tree.
It seemed all the decorations' glares were all linked to this guiding star like a constellation.
The blue-haired man snuggles against the green-haired one, and Anaxa rests his head on his, both their gazes fixed on their creation.
Their tree, in their house, for their Christmas.
The cosy living room was radiating with the light of a promising beginning.
--------
On December 24th, it's not footsteps on the roof that break the calm inside, but the ringing of the doorbell.
Anaxa looks through the kitchen window, staring at the minivan that just parked in front of the garden, then turns to Sunday. "It's for you, sweetheart."
He insists on finishing himself the installation of the long table in the dining room, and gently pushes Sunday towards the entrance.
Then–
"Sunnyyyy !!"
"How are you doing ?? It's been so long !!"
"Oowwww that's a lovely house that you have !"
The door is barely open that a flood of enthusiastic greetings emerges from Sunday's high school friends : the twins Caelus and Stelle, March 7th, and even Dan Heng, more reserved, slowly joins the others on the hug ambush.
When the young man is free from the flood, the two older people accompanying the four embrace him in turn, more gently. Himeko and Welt Yang.
They were both colleagues and friends of Caelus and Stelle's parents, and Sunday had met them for the first time at the twins' 12th birthday party. Then, they had been present at every following birthdays. Their goodwill immediately pleased the young boy he was, to the point he now views them as the parents he never had. Especially Welt, who acted with him and the whole friend group with an attention and care his blood father never showed.
"Merry Christmas, Sunday," The old man looks at him proudly behind his glasses, pressing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for."
Sunday smiles back with an infinite gratitude. "Thank you, mister Yang."
Himeko takes the angel in her arms in turn, murmuring he should be proud of himself and everything he achieved so far.
"Oh, by the way !" March cuts the moment with a bit too much excitement.
"Someone came with us, who you may want to see."
Everyone steps aside in a perfect choreography-like synchronization, to form a guard of honor for a radiant young woman with the same wings as Sunday's in her pastel blue hair.
"Robin !!"
Sunday dashes across the guard of honor to throw himself in his little sister's arms. They run into each other with so much strength he almost lifts her off the snowy ground as they spin together.
He hadn't seen her for at least five months since she was on tour. Life as a singer is a pretty busy one.
The melodious echo of their laughs reaches Anaxa's ears, who can't hold back an amused giggle when he raises his head from the table to check what was going on outside.
The siblings exchange a few news, Robin explains the group picked her up a few days after the last concert of her tour, they all slept at Welt's home, then left at 5 AM in the morning today to arrive at the city around 9 AM as agreed.
Sunday, as for him, relates a few of his eccentric adventures with Anaxa, starting by the 'accidental acrobatics on the roof', which makes her chuckle.
Since the winter breeze is progressively taking over, Sunday invites everyone to get inside and greet his partner.
It must be the fourth time the scholar met them, which is not quite a lot actually, but enough for him to forge bonds with some of them. He especially liked talking about researches and natural phenomenons with Dan Heng, both equally curious of environnement, and sometimes discussed of what's going on in the world with Welt.
Everyone unpacks their belongings in the living room, guided by the two house owners to install sleeping bags in the area assigned to their night.
When the doorbell rings again before the installation is complete, the visitors this time come from Anaxa's side.
The first face to appear in the doorway is Phainon's. He was in the same school as Anaxa, who gave him physics and chemical tutoring lessons. As well as to two other classmates, the sweet Hyacine, and the delicate Castorice. The four of them were quite inseparable in high school.
"Hi there !!" Phainon exclaims with spirit. "Merry Christmas, senior Anaxa !"
Despite them being around the same age, Phainon had stuck his friend with the title 'senior', same for the nickname 'Anaxa' instead of 'Anaxagoras'. To be honest, almost no one was using his actual name, except Cyrene, (Phainon's best friend) and of course Sunday (even though he had the privilege of having the authorisation to nickname or pet name him as he wanted) ; so, after years, he had to learn not to mind this diminutive.
Especially with...
"How we meet again, Anaxa."
Aglaea.
They had to work together in an thesis in university, and their two radically opposite points of view turned things more complicated than they already were. They couldn't stand each other at first, but after a bit of time and awareness, they managed to make quite a decent team. Their relationship is way more stable nowadays.
Plus she was getting along very well with Sunday, consequently Anaxa forced himself to hold his tongue every time his boyfriend was chatting with her.
The angel was also pretty close to Aglaea's colleagues, who were also here : Cerydra and Hysilens. At one Christmas a few years ago, he had spent part of the afternoon playing chess with Cerydra and discussing strategy tactics with her. He also truly appreciated Hysilens' written poems and songs, and the woman with long dark hair suggested they compose a song together, since she'd heard about his talent for composing music for his sister.
The reunion continues with Cyrene, who shakes Anaxa's hand respectfully, then the imposing and irritable Mydeimos –also suffering the nickname curse by being called 'Mydei'–, who pats the scholar's shoulder as a friendly greeting, then leaves his place to the mischievous Cipher (original name Cifera) who ruffles his green hair.
Finally, three pairs of hands grab his sleeves and shirt-tail.
"Can we visit the house ?" One tiny voice asks.
"Are the others here yet ?" Another interrupts.
"Do you need our help for something ?" A third one adds.
Respecfully Trianne, Trinnon and Tribbie.
Anaxa sighs with a smile. He lets the triplet drag him inside, followed by the nine other guests.
Oh by the imaginary tree theory...
This Christmas is really going to be something else.
~
"A little higher, Stelle !" Cerydra's voice resounds. "More on the left, March 7th ! Don't tell me 'which one', you're facing the wall, therefore we have the same left."
The pink-haired girl obeys and moves her hand a few centimeters on the side.
"...And it is the wrong left !" Cerydra scolds.
The two girls were standing on ladders, adjusting a 'VERY MERRY HAPPY JOLLY CHRISTMAS' banner painted by the twins.
Dan Heng holds the ladder on which March is standing and quiet tiredness from having to move it every minute is easy to read on his face. Meanwhile Caelus maintains the one supporting his sister's weight and can't help but swing it on purpose, before being rebuked.
"You want to mess our days of hard-work, you dumbell ?" The girl with medium-length hair yells at her brother.
"I did eighty percent of the work," Caelus replies, acting exaggeratedly offended, "while you were watching stupid cat videos with March !"
"We were searching for design ideas !" Stelle defends herself. "Because at least we are working seriousl–"
"Enough, young ones." Welt intervenes, calmly but firmly. "Someone may fall off the ladder at this rate."
Cerydra smirks with mischief and confidence.
"If you two listen to mister Yang, you can esteem yourself lucky to be spared from the broken leg punishment. What you will lose instead is simply your part of tonight's dessert. Hysilens will thank you !"
The twins protest in unison.
Near the dining room table, Cipher lets out a snort at the hearing of the nearby chaos. Even the one Aglaea said was nicknamed 'the little imperator' by her colleagues couldn't hold back the twin-tornado...
Hopefully with Anaxa, things should go smoothly –Except for the roof incident, everyone has heard about it now.
But no reason to be scared here, they wouldn't need to go high up. Their mission was to set up the long table installed earlier by Anaxa. More exactly, three average tables joined end-to-end : the usual dining room table, the patio table, and the living room coffee table lifted by a stool temporarily fixed at the middle of the wooden surface by another of Anaxa's creation : a strong glue of temporary effect.
The erudite arranges twenty-one place settings (how many ?!) on the red tablecloth. He puts out matching silverware, white plates with constellation patterns, stemmed glasses, and embroidered golden napkins.
Cipher disposes ornamentations she brought all over the length of the tables. A sliver candlestick, a vase covered in winter symbols that she fills with artificial roses and holly dredged with sequins, emerald colored candles...
Everything seems so shiny and luxurious, too much even, that when Cipher pulls out of her bag a crystal statuette of a snowflake, Anaxagoras frowns with suspicion. Cipher places her last decoration in the middle of the table and looks at him right in the eyes.
"A question, mister Nax ?"
"...Where did you get these ?" He asks seriously.
"At the Christmas market !" The young woman proudly crosses her arms.
Anaxa was not fully convinced.
"No, Cipher, what I am asking you is : Did you buy them ?"
Cipher's smile widens.
"Some of them, yes."
Anaxa runs a hand on his forehead.
As expected...
In the kitchen, Phainon, Mydei, Cyrene and Himeko are working relentlessly. The boys are handling the turkey and disagreeing on the amount of chestnuts to stuff, while the girls are baking shortbread biscuits. They shape them all differently : stars, pine trees, circles, hearts, and Cyrene models two or three of them like tiny dinosaurs. They are called dromas, an endangered species Anaxa is extremely attached to.
(Apparently he plans on trying to convince Sunday to adopt one).
When the turkey is in the oven after a compromise was found about chestnuts, Mydei gives a hand to Himeko with side dishes, and Phainon comes to Cyrene's help for the drinkings. –They had been told by Anaxa from Sunday that it was vital to keep Himeko out of the hot drinks, especially coffee.
Their prudence nevertheless doesn't stop Phainon and Mydei to challenge each other again in a battle to see which team would finish their preparation first.
Far from the agitation, Sunday had taken Robin, Hysilens and the triplets to his home office, his music room.
They would need peace and quiet to rehearse for their Christmas concert. They plan to reorchestrate popular Christmas Carols with Sunday at the piano and as conductor, Hysilens at the violin, Robin as the lead singer and Trianne, Trinnon and Tribbie as the chorus. Sometimes Sunday and Hysilens share a few notes with them, and their six voices surprisingly harmonize very well.
"Well done everyone !" Robin praises. "We sound lovely together"
"Mister Sunday didn't lie when he said your voice was magical, miss Robin !" Tribbie says admiringly. Trinnon and Trianne nod in approval in one same movement.
Robin giggles in modesty.
"Thank you. You three are as sweet as what my brother told me."
Things were preparing progressively, a few more rehearsals for their part and everything will be ready.
Finally, under the tricolor tree in the living room, Hyacine, Castorice and Aglaea are finishing to arrange the presents every guest had brought for their secret santa exchange. Hyacine counts them.
"That's seventeen, it is all there !" (There was one same package for twins and one same package for the triplets).
Castorice comes closer to whisper in the ear of the girl with ponytails.
"There should be eighteen actually... Do you have the–"
Hyacine shows both women a tiny dark blue box tucked between two biggest presents.
"Perfect." Aglaea nods in approval. "However..." She plunges her hand into her purse. "It would be an offense to traditions to forget this."
She pulls out a mistletoe and waves it under Castorice and Hyacine's nose. A real one she picked from a garden she had visited recently. The two other girls exchange a knowing look. Aglaea never misses an occasion to play the matchmakers –or to assist to the demonstration of how mushy Anaxa and Sunday can be sometimes.
The partially blind woman and Castorice carry Hyacine to help her tie the mistletoe to a garland over the fireplace.
Coincidentally enough, everyone comes out of their preparation mission at this right scene.
Now, everything was ready.
~
In the middle of a blowing wind leading nocturnal darkness, the light from the windows of the house make the snowflakes twinkle as they fall.
The dining room is filled with the smell of a feast fresh from the oven, a clamour of laughter and extravagant discussions, and an atmosphere of reunions and meetings.
Fire peacefully burns in the chimney and on the candles illuminating the table.
A similar flame is being fuelled in Anaxa's heart by the slow passing of time. Once again, Sunday didn't miss that. Sat to Anaxa's right, he gently presses his tense arm.
"Are you okay, darling ?"
Anaxa quickly glances at the piled up presents under the pine tree.
"Yes, I'm just... a bit overwhelmed, to say the least."
"You worked a lot to prepare this party," Sunday reminds, his voice full of empathy and care. "Your brilliant mind deserves a rest."
He was holding this speech often, even though he needed less and less to do so because his partner was slowly accepting to let himself being taken care of.
However, tonight it was so much harder for the scholar to follow this advice.
The moment of gift exchange is coming closer...
But what he thinks about the most is what would come after.
The evening flows by calmly, and Anaxa eventually relaxes a bit by discussing with Hyacine and Dan Heng about some historical site of a former hospital.
Caelus and Stelle are sharing jokes with Cipher and Tribbie.
March 7th and Robin question Aglaea about her next winter collection as a fashion designer.
Sunday is chatting with Cyrene and Castorice about the books they are currently reading –or writing.
Mydei clicks glasses with Hysilens and Trianne.
Cerydra and Himeko exchange about their current professional project, often interrupted by Trinnon's interested questions.
Even Welt unexpectedly discovers a common guilty-pleasure passion with Phainon for k-pop groups.
As the clock hand progressively approaches the top number, the plates empty, the voices fall silent. Everyone takes place on the living room sofa, couches or nearby.
Sunday plugs in the living room synthesizer (moving the whole piano from his music office would take too long), Hysilens grabs her violin and Robin and the triplets take their place for the Christmas concert.
Voices intertwine like branches of a tree moving in the rhythm of a breeze, piano and violin dance together, and Robin's voice soars like the singing of a dove. Trianne, Tribbie and Trinnon form a harmonious backup vocals, each one on a different octaves, singing along the chorus in unison. The lead singer occasionally exchanges glances with her brother, their bond seems enlightened by the presence of two sides of the same family around them.
During the "O Holy night" song, some turn their phone lights on and wave it following the beats of each Carol.
Anaxa stares at nothing but Sunday, at the spotlight he commands even when his voice remains silent. How he tilts his head a bit while smoothly and graciously slipping his hands on the keys. Robin is an amazing singer with a beautiful voice and a sense of sharing of course, but he can't look away from this talented pianist and wondering how this perfectly unperfect man fell in love with him. Every day, minute with him made Anaxa's love grow. This concert delivered with heart reinforces him about the important gift he prepared for when midnight comes. He grips the armrest of his chair tightly. Let's hope his surprise works...
The last Carol "We wish you a merry Christmas" ends up with everyone joining in, eruptions of vocal cords turning into clapping of hands.
The one-night band acknowledge their audience under the strokes of the wall bell clock.
And when the twelfth stroke sounds...
"MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE !"
Robin shouts, raising the candle that was at her place on the table.
The others imitate her with their own, and twenty one sparks float like miniature stars in their hand, all gathered under this sky of comfort.
"And now, gift-giving time !" Trianne announces fiercely, clapping her hands.
Her two sisters repeat her words and gestures by claiming "The gifts ! The gifts !".
One by one, each guest advances to the tree, takes the present they rustled up, and offers it to the person they had picked the name of during the random draw they had made a few months ago –they started one time when the couple visited Sunday's friends, then Anaxa's friends drew among the remaining papers.
Sunday is the first one to go. He grabs a package wrapped in a checked black and white gift paper and hands it to Cerydra. She seems grateful to have him as her secret santa. Inside the packet is a board game recently released : a game of strategy, that can be played every man for himself or in teams, where each decisions impacts the rest of the players and drastically influences the next turns. Sunday knew Cerydra was looking for something different than chess and perhaps more entertaining.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," the short woman smirks as she examines the game box to read the rules. "I shall invite you all to play it together. Starting by you, Sunday, as a thank you." Sunday is relieved she likes it.
Then, Cerydra offers her gift to Mydei : a perfect replica of an old weapon used during a conquest war. A mighty decoration for his office or bedroom. "Specifically requested to the best blacksmith of my town," she states. Mydei contemplates the replica with curiosity and gratitude.
Cyrene obtains from him user-adjustable snow globe, she can change or paint the miniature inside, change the color of tiny sparkles and flakes inside, and even decorate the base. She grants him a friendly hug to thank him.
She next places in each of the Triplets' hand a pendant : Trinnon gets one shaped like a lock, Trianne gets a door, and Tribbie gets a key. Each pendant can be combined to the others to form a combination: the lock protecting the door, the key fitting in the lock and the door opened by the key. The three girls fall on the older woman's neck.
Cipher does the same to them, hugging the three in one movement when she unpacks a set of rare edition cards for a gambling and lying game she used to play as a child.
When it's her turn to hand Welt her gift for him, she doesn't hide her satisfaction. The old man adjusts his glasses with a muffled laugh. He scans every angle of the bronze figurine of a famous world traveler Cipher says she "bought perfectly legally to an auction". Anaxa coughs at her affirmation.
But it is to him now to recieve from Welt an electric bedside lamp with many interchangeables frames. Each of them represents one galaxy or part of the cosmos. When the switch is on, the different constellations painted on the frame gleam in the dark. A creative and clever object, spot on. (However it won't arrange his sleep schedule, on the contrary) Anaxa bows his head respectfully at mister Yang, and the latter goes for a clumsy but sincere tap on his back.
Time for Anaxa to give his secret santa gift now. Not the one yet, but one he was also impatient to offer.
"There you are, Robin."
He hands her a packet the size of a coconut, and when Robin remove the ribbon enveloping it...
A mechanical bird spreads its wings and floats a few centimeters above her, spins around her head and lends back on her palm. She gasps in admiration and emotion. Birds have always meant a lot for her, it's a symbol of freedom and taking one's own choice of life.
"Oh my...! Anaxagoras... How did you...?" The worldwide known singer almost stutters, something she rarely does.
"I once built it for Diotima," Anaxa tells with a sigh of nostalgia. "And now it's yours."
From one sister to another.
Even Sunday places a hand on his heart at the meaning of this gesture. Robin almost jumps on her feet as she takes Anaxa in her arms. Her own wings spread in her hair from happiness. A stirred silence follows all over the living room.
Robin eventually calms down from her emotion, but right after it's up to March to become unable to formulate a grammatically correct sentence after discovering Robin's autographed latest album specifically for her.
Dan Heng is less demonstrative but no less grateful for the camera March offered him. "With this," she explains keenly, "you can immortalize your own memories ! And be sure I will challenge you for photo contests." Dan Heng hugs her as a response.
A few minutes later, Hysilens presses her ear to the seashell Dan Heng brought back from the ocean of Lushaka he visited recently. She poetically describes the melody of distant waves she hears.
Hyacine hugs tighly the candy pink chimera cuddly toy the violonist gave her and nuzzles her face in the wool. And in addition, Hysilens also found a unicorn toy for Hyacine's pet, Ica. Even she has the right to have her own Christmas gift after all !
Castorice remains speechless as soon as she reads the edges of her own book gift from Hyacine : 'To preserve a frozen heart', by Pelageya Sergeyevna. It was the very first original story of this fanfiction writter the young lady was a huge fan of.
Stelle and Caelus compare their matching keychains, drawn and printed by Castorice herself. Each one has a little character representing them, with an animal. Stelle with a cat, Caelus with a rabbit. They both squeeze their secret santa in a 'surprise sandwich hug'.
Himeko shakes her head with an amused smirk at the sight the cooking book the twins offered her –they even included a bookmark at the 'Homemade coffee' page.
Aglaea carefully places in her hair a pealry hairpiece of a butterfly surronded by circle and flower patterns, and pins on her dress a brooch of a rose with yellow, red and orange reflections. She appreciates the fact they match with her outfit.
Both accessories had been chosen with care by Himeko. Luckily she was better at handling objects than food.
At least it couldn't be worse than Phainon's fashion sense, to the point Aglaea offered him a full outfit, containing a shirt, a jacket, a belt, a trousers, and even socks, that she all sewed herself.
"These pieces go together, don't mix them with green or yellow, am I clear ?" She ordered strictly but affectionately.
Phainon looks at the different clothes with a puzzled look at first, then bursts into laughter and promises he will try to make an effort.
Concluding the gift tour, Sunday pulls out of a little enveloppe a dreamcatcher shaped like a sun.
"So that dawn will enlighten your nights." Phainon announces proudly, like he had been waiting months to deliver this line.
Sunday presses his gift against his heart, truly touched, and the white-haired man pulls him into a warm hug.
Suddenly, Caelus' voice calls out.
"Hey, there is one more thing left under the tree."
All eyes fall on the blue dot the young man was pointing at.
A small box was indeed waiting there.
Stelle bends down to catch it and reads the label. "It's yours, Sunday."
...What ?
The above-mentioned frowns in confusion. Was it a belonging he had lost ? Or a part of Phainon's gift for him that he forgot to add in the envelope ? The winged man gives him a questioning look, but Phainon limits himself to a shrug and a shake of head.
Sunday takes the box from Stelle, stares at it for a moment.
According to its narrow size, it must be a jewel box. Sunday doesn't wear a lot of accessories like this, but maybe it was a lure and something else was inside ? What kind of surprise have they prepared for him ?
He delicately lifts the lid...
Empty.
Sunday raises an eyebrow. He turns to Cipher, who understands his question before it can come out of his mouth.
"Nope, I didn't take anything !" she exclaims, putting her hands up in a gesture of innocence. A corner of her mouth was however raised a bit, covering a glimpse of smile.
Which actually, was the same kind of smile everyone had. March 7th looked like she was holding back a laugh.
Doubtful, the angel carefully withdraws the tiny burgundy pillow off the coffer to see if the jewel slipped in the bottom of the box. It didn't.
Sunday feels around the sofa in hope of touching something metallic between two cushions. The only thing he grabs his thin air. He looks up again, his gaze sweeps everyone, everything from right to left– then freezes in front of him.
The jewel was right under his eyes.
A ring, topped with a diamond shaped like a bird.
In Anaxa's palm, who was on one knee before him.
...Oh.
Oh by the harmonious dove...
Sunday holds his breath. His heart beats faster at every fragment of past clue he realizes.
Why his lover seemed absent-minded for a few weeks.
The way he kept checking inside his pockets or in his desk drawer.
This experience he never named but described to him as 'the most trying project he would probably ever undertake'.
Anaxagoras definitely never stops surprising him...
Sunday's hand rises by itself to his mouth. His wings prick up behind his hair.
He should have seen it coming, but the amazement in his heart was real.
"Sunday..."
The green-haired man's voice cracks a bit at the evocation of the name of the person who meant everything to him. He discreetly clears his throat before continuing.
"You created a variable I never expected would fit in my life. My existence was a question, you became the answer I was looking for but never knew where to search. You let me be your balance point, and you became my guide in the light I sometimes forget it exists, my reminder. I love you with everything I have and everything I am."
Time didn't exist anymore inside the room.
Anaxa may well be a philosopher in the soul, used to grandiose speeches and formulations, he still expresses his feelings with devotion, truth and meaning.
"I would like this Christmas to be the first of a long series, to keep living under this roof with you, to keep surprising and amaze you, to keep feeling your warmth next to me every morning."
Impossible for Sunday's heart not to accelerate a bit more at every word. Each beat was sending a tear at the edge of his eyes.
This couldn't be real... Yet it was.
"Thus," Anaxa goes on, "tonight I share you my wish, for us to become the bridge that will link our families, our history, our past, our present, our future."
He takes a deep inspiration and flourishes the ring higher like he would do with a sample of a chemical experience result he was proud of.
"Sunday, will you marry me ?"
Walls stop cracklings, ceiling lights stop flickering, even the fire froze in the chimney. It seemed everyone in the living room turned into a statue, you could hear a pin drop.
Sunday swallows. His wings start flapping rapidly, as if to ventilate his face to dry the tears.
"Anaxagoras, I–" Only a broken breath shapes the words that comes out. He sniffs a bit and nods multiple times rapidly.
"Yes... Yes, of course, yes ! A thousand times yes !"
He offers his left hand without hesitation, slightly shaking from emotion. Anaxa's hand also trembles a bit when he slips the bird ring at his lover's –now fiancé's– finger. He keeps his hand in his and presses his lips against his knuckles.
Sunday doesn't wait one more second to throw himself in his arms, laughing between tears as they stumble together.
Unable to resist, he cups Anaxa's face and captures his mouth in a deep, long, and languid kiss. Anaxa immediately responds and wraps his arms around him, one hand on his back and the other one in his hair.
They remain sat on the ground, holding each other so closely they could merge with each other.
The entire room erupts into cheers and applause.
Robin places a hand on her heart, tears of pride wetting her turquoise eyes, then starts clapping loudly. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Welt taking his glasses of to wipe his own tears away.
"Congratulations !" Himeko and Cyrene exclaim in one voice.
"Hurray !!" The triplets high-five and start making a circle, dragging Stelle and Hyacine along with them.
Cipher and Caelus set off confetti cannons. March squeaks in excitement and urges a smiling Dan Heng to take his first picture right now.
Mydei and Castorice clap loudly, Hysilens and Cerydra too but more faintly.
"About time." Aglaea comments with a satisfied smile.
As for Phainon, he's probably the loudest out of everyone : hitting the table with his elbow and whistling like there's no tomorrow.
When Anaxa and Sunday pull apart and get up, the angel takes a moment to admire the ring.
"It's perfect..." He mutters, the spark of the diamond illuminating his face. "You truly crafted this for me ?"
"Obviously" Anaxa answers. "What wouldn't I do for the man who gave me back a life worthy to be lived ?"
Sunday lets out a crystal-clear giggle and intertwines his fingers to his fiancé's.
"I love you so much... Mwah !"
He peppers his lips, forehead and cheeks with cheerful kisses, letting out audible and adorable sounds that achieve exploding Anaxa's heart.
Robin is the first one to move towards them, and with an unexpected strength, she pulls the two of them into an intense embrace.
"I am so happy for you two," she whispers, crying almost as much as her brother. "You deserve the best."
She glances tenderly at her future brother-in-law. "Thank you for offering him the reality he deserves."
Meanwhile, Welt approaches Sunday and congratulates him shyly.
"I'm... truly proud of you."
He hesitantly stretches his arms and Sunday immediately hugs him, taking him by surprise.
Himeko also takes a few steps to admit they were all aware and accomplices of Anaxa's surprise. Sunday laughs and elbows his fiancé teasingly.
Next to the lunch table, Hyacine takes back her candle and lifts it as high as she can.
"To the newly engaged couple !"
"To Anaxa and Sunday !" The others all reply in one voice.
The next second, the lovebirds are surrounded by an avalanche of congratulations and questions.
"So, when's the wedding ?"
"We better be VIP guests !"
"When do you plan to tell your college students, Anaxagoras ?"
"Do you plan to adopt a child ?"
"Did you suspect something, mister Sunday ?"
"Guess we didn't need the mistletoe after all."
Robin comes to the rescue of their nerves, proposing to anyone who wants to go outside admiring the stars. She discreetly winks at her brother ; she clearly understood he needs a break after all this emotional roller coaster.
No sooner said than done, a herd of winter-jackets, beanies and boots rushes outside, flashlights or phones in hand. Snow was dancing like tiny crystallines fairies above their bewitched faces.
Castorice tries to catch flakes in her joined palms, as Caelus is trying to eat them in the meantime.
Stelle attempts to initiate a snowball fight, but quickly gives up when Mydei threatens her with a snowball the size of her head.
Hyacine, Phainon and March lay in the snow to draw angels. Aglaea warns them she won't take responsibility for neither them if they fall sick.
Sunday, for his part, just stands there, his hand in Anaxa's, appreciating the fresh breath of night on his skin.
The voices of all these people that would from now on become a frequent part of his life.
The sensation of the promise protecting his finger.
A shooting star passes by right above them and leaves a sparkling trail behind it. A silent blessing from the sky itself, should they interpret.
Anaxa squeezes the angel's hand.
"Did you make a wish ?"
Sunday smiles and caresses his cheek.
"All I could ever wish for became true tonight."
Stars never shone as bright as tonight, but not quite as much as their eyes.
"Merry Christmas, my fiancé." Sunday murmurs lovingly.
Anaxa kisses his forehead before resting his own against his lover's.
"Merry Christmas, my future."
They are a family now.