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It was strange to have someone to celebrate the holidays with. Edelgard was used to watching the seasons turn out the window, never knowing who to call or give presents to. She would receive a card here and there from friends of the past, most of them with children on their own and partners that were worth bragging on Facebook about.
Christmas used to be filled with gifts and laughter, but she no longer had that family... her father passing and her finally turning her back on her uncle who treated her so poorly. Since then, it was difficult to warrant even putting a tree up in the living room.
Ingrid had a tree up—albeit a small one—with a pile of gifts waiting underneath.
What time was it? The digital clock on the stovetop said that it was four a.m. and Edelgard was willing to wait. Wait for the sun to arrive and for Ingrid to wake up and find her alone in the living room. The nightmare hadn't woken her up this time, thankfully. Edelgard always felt guilty when her tossing and turning and screaming resulted in her partner waking up. It was too early for anyone to be alert apart from her.
Edelgard turned on the kettle, doing her best to find a mug in the dim reflection of the street lamps outside. She would let Ingrid sleep, her knight in shining armor with a big heart and ambitions that Edelgard could hardly keep up with. It was difficult to believe that she deserved Ingrid's love, much less being able to spend the holidays with her.
She grabbed a mug at random from the cupboard, able to make out the images of horses on it. Even in the haze of nightmares she laughed to herself. Ingrid spent a good amount of time with horses at the farm, but her family had turned it into a personality trait. Every time they would get her a gift, it would be adorned by horses: shirts, hats, bags, art, and of course mugs. Ingrid had found it embarrassing as she explained it—her cheeks tinged pink as Edelgard looked at the wall art in her living room. Edelgard thought it was sweet.
The water rose to a boil and Edelgard put a teabag in her waiting mug, maneuvering through the kitchen as if it was her own. It wasn’t hers, not yet. Even so, there were so many mornings where they would tumble out of bed, trying to find their clothes on the carpet, making breakfast before work. She wanted it to be her life—she found moments of calmness in Ingrid’s arms that she never thought she would have again—but it all seemed too soon. Edelgard had no one to tell her if she was moving too fast, if she was falling in love with her because Ingrid gave her things no one else ever had.
Edelgard turned the Christmas tree’s lights on and sat by it with her mug of tea.
She knew that her thoughts were just swirling in tandem with the nightmares that haunted her sleep, but it was difficult not to assume the worse. She loved Ingrid and had to trust that it was what the feeling was.
Underneath the tree were carefully wrapped gifts, all waiting for Ingrid to deliver to her friends. It was what they would be doing in the afternoon, driving around town and stopping by various houses in Ingrid’s truck. Edelgard had never bought a present for a friend. It was sweet of her girlfriend to spend so much time thinking about the gifts, each different for the boys that she loved. It made her envious in ways that she couldn’t place, but happy all the same that Ingrid had found a family that loved her.
“Edelgard?”
She turned to see Ingrid in the hallway, sleepily looking at her spot by the tree.
“Good morning. Merry Christmas,” she wished. “It’s not morning yet, you should go back to sleep.”
Sometimes it would work. Her words would be enough for Ingrid to shrug it off and go back to bed without her, but this time the blonde crossed the room and sat next to her on the couch. “Merry Christmas, love.”
“You shouldn’t be up this early.”
“We can watch the sunrise over the snow.” Ingrid ignored her comment. She leaned into Edelgard, her head resting on her shoulder. “If you aren’t coming back to bed, I would rather—” she yawned “—fall asleep on the couch with you.”
Edelgard chuckled, but she leaned into the warmth of Ingrid. The warmth of her tea. The warmth of sharing a home and a holiday with someone.
“Are you sure you want me to visit your friends and family tomor—today?” Edelgard asked. She had tried to bring up the topic more than once the previous night, but Ingrid would dodge the conversation each time.
“Of course.” Ingrid kissed her cheek. Her braid was falling out from sleep, the strands of hair attempting to fly away. “Is there any reason for the hesitation? If you would prefer to stay home, you are welcome.”
It was strange for her to call it Edelgard’s home, as well. The house with big windows and too small of a bathroom and horse memorabilia and Ingrid.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Edelgard finally said, the words that had been lingering on her mind all season. “I feel like… you just don’t want me to be alone and pity me for it.”
Ingrid frowned, but instead of speaking she grabbed a blanket from the other end of the couch and pulled it around both of them. Edelgard took a steady sip of her tea. It was too hot and she winced.
“You have just been so generous… letting me stay here most nights and letting me meet everyone close to you and… I can’t offer you that.”
“That is okay,” Ingrid said. She didn’t push or argue, but she looked at the tree and then to Edelgard. “I love you and I want you to be here. Is that enough?”
In the chill of the morning it was more than enough.
“I love you, too.”
“Good,” Ingrid said, pressing another kiss to her neck. It was their home, after all.