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Mary really had been meaning to get the house decorated before just a few days before Christmas Eve…but she had thought she’d be back at her parents’ house, and then other shit had happened, and time…time had just gotten away from her, so now it was the twenty-second of December, and she was knee-deep in boxes out of the loft, trying to get her flat nice and festive looking for Christmas.
And despairing. Just a little bit.
It was just seeming like an impossible task. She’d already been at it all day: now it was mid-afternoon and she wasn’t even half-way done.
She was actually starting to lose her mind. She was standing in the kitchen, trying to make herself go back out there and carry on decorating the living room…and failing.
No matter how hard she tried to psyche herself up, telling herself that the sooner she went out and started the sooner she would be finished…but she still found herself standing in front of the kitchen counter, unable to face it. It felt like such an insurmountable job, she just couldn’t deal with it.
Mary sank into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, burying her head in her hands.
She’d really wanted to make Christmas at least a little bit special. She was on her own this year; she’d broken up with her long-time boyfriend in November, her family were sick and had told her to stay away, to stop her from getting sick, and her roommate had all gone back to her family, and all Marry had wanted was to make the few days she was going to be on her own feel a little bit less miserable.
Fairy lights and tinsel weren’t going to make up for the fact she was on her own, she knew that, but Mary had been hoping that at least it would make the place a little less gloomy…but instead all she’d done was make herself feel more depressed, and totally defeated.
She was honestly wishing she’d never even bothered…
It felt like she was destined to be miserable this Christmas, and that there was no point doing anything to try and change that. She was going to end up sad anyway.
Mary was so lost in her misery that she didn’t hear the key in the lock of the front door – only lifting her head when a familiar voice called out: “Mary? You home?”
Ian?
There was no reason for Ian to be in Mary’s flat; he was supposed to be going back to his family’s place for Christmas. They’d gone to get drinks as a ‘farewell’ thing last week, the night before he’d gotten on the train – and he’d been sending her texts about all the family drama the whole time he’d been there.
“Ian? What are you doing here?”
Ian dropped a bag at his feet, and treated Mary to a small smile: “Well, you were sounding pretty down about not being able to go back to your parents’ house for Christmas, and my parent’s place was getting pretty full, so…I thought I’d come and spend Christmas with you, if you wanted?”
Mary’s heart melted.
Ian was, and always had been, a sweetheart…but this was a whole new level. She knew Ian really valued spending Christmas with his parents, now he lived in a different part of the country to them.
She crossed the hallway and grabbed her friend in a tight hug, smiling against his shoulder when he instantly hugged her back.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Ian acknowledged: “But I wanted to. No best friend of mine is going to be alone on Christmas.”
If Mary had thought her heart had melted before…by now it was just a puddle of goo.
For all Ian claimed he was a misanthrope – and for all he was actually correct in that claim – he was one of the sweetest people she knew. He always had been, ever since they’d met in an art class and he’d complimented her watercolour painting of a skull. He wasn’t the most outgoing of people, but he’d quickly become her best friend, even though they’d known each other for less than two years.
And now he was spending his Christmas with her. Because he didn’t want her to be lonely.
Mary couldn’t help herself: she started crying.
Ian instantly started panicking, hands fluttering in their air as he tried to comfort her, without having the first idea of what to do. In fairness to him, it worked; Mary stopped crying and started laughing.
And Ian, despite the relief written plainly across his face, sniffed haughtily: “I’m glad my discomfort is so amusing to you.”
“I’m glad you’re glad.” Mary continued to laugh: “You’re literally useless at comforting people, it’s so funny.”
Ian just shrugged: “It works. And if it’s broke…don’t fix it.”
Mary couldn’t argue with that. And she couldn’t argue with Ian’s logic that, with the two of them, they’d be able to finish decorating the flat in no time. With him here, it didn’t feel like such an impossible task. Soon enough, the tree was wrapped in fairy lights and tinsel, and decorated with baubles. There was extra tinsel draped around the lamps on the end tables, and draped over the big photo frames containing Mary’s posters. And more fairy lights lining the windows, lighting up the room in a gentle pink glow.
The living room looked like a Christmas grotto…and Mary loved it.
She was standing in the middle off the room, trying to resist the urge to jump up and down on the spot; she was so happy. Ian knew it, too; Mary could tell by the way he was trying not to laugh at her as he came to stand beside her and slung an arm around her shoulder.
“We did good, huh?” he asked, pulling her in for a comfortable side-hug.
A hug she returned by wrapping an around his waist: “We did so good. We should treat ourselves.”
“Takeaway and Die Hard?”
“Takeaway and Die Hard.” Mary nodded, going to get her phone from the kitchen while Ian flopped down onto the sofa to queue up Die Hard.
It felt pretty fucking good.
Mary returned to the sofa a few seconds later, slumping down next to Ian and immediately tucking herself into his side. He happily wrapped an arm around her shoulders while he scrolled through the list of films, looking for Die Hard.
They sat in a comfortable silence while Mary put their usual order into her phone and the opening scenes of the film started to unfold across the screen. Mary was quite comfortable sitting pressed against Ian’s side – he was warm, and Mary had kind of missed human contact – but as the film went on, she could feel him getting more and more tense. And by the time the food arrived, he was virtually a statue.
Mary couldn’t jump up to get the door when the delivery guy knocked. She used the walk to compose herself, and when she returned to the living room with food and cutlery in hand, she also grabbed the remote to pause the film.
“Are you okay?” she asked Ian: “You seem a little tense.”
Ian sighed, and scrubbed a hand down his face: “Yeah, I…I just need to talk to you about something, and I’m not sure how it’s going to go down.”
Mary set the food down on the coffee table and sat down so she could focus on Ian: “Ian, you can tell me anything.”
By the look on his face, Ian didn’t look like he fully believed that…but he seemed to brace himself for whatever negative reaction he was going to get, and started talking: “Okay, so…the reason I came to yours for Christmas was because my mum was sick of me ‘moping around the house, worrying about the girl I’ve had a crush on for years’, so she sent me home.”
“Right…I’m not seeing why you think that would upset me.” Mary shrugged, not offended that Ian’s mum had been the one who’d sent him back here. Obviously, he’d wanted to come back, and she just cared that he’d come back.
“I’m not finished.” Ian replied ominously: “I didn’t say anything before because you were in a relationship, and I didn’t want to be that guy. Honestly, I’m not even sure I should be telling you now; you’ve barely just broken up, and I still feel really grubby telling you this now…but, Mary, my mum’s right; I have a crush on you. A huge crush. I think…I think I’m in love with you.”
Mary didn’t know what to say. It was a lot to process.
Ian had never tried to cross the line between friendly and romantic. They’d been really good friends, but he’d never done anything to make her think he was interested in anything other than that. To hear that he was in love with her, and for a while by the sound of it…
…it was a lot…
…but it didn’t feel…bad.
Mary had had guys come on to her that she’d had no interest in, and it had always made her feel like she wanted a shower afterwards. There was nothing like that with Ian. She was surprised, of course, but under that surprise was…excitement.
“I’m sorry.” Ian sighed: “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I can go - ”
“Ian, no.” Mary reached out to catch his hand when he went to stand up: “Don’t go. Look, I can’t say I’m not surprised by the fact you’ve been in love with me without me knowing, but…I don’t want you to go.”
Ian’s eyes widened: “You don’t?”
“I don’t.” Mary promised: “I can’t…I can’t promise that I’m in a good place right now. I broke up with my boyfriend less than two months ago, but I can promise that after the surprise wore off a little, the only thing I felt hearing that you loved me was excitement. So I’d…I’d really like to maybe try to make something work.”
“I won’t do anything to make you regret it, Mary, I swear.” Ian promised, smiling at her so brightly it felt like she was going to be blinded.
She already knew she wasn’t going to regret this.