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It's a tiny box, almost lost in the tree's thick foliage. Wrapped in green paper printed with gold stars; the gift's tag spells out the recipient in an elegant gold script.
'For Rey.'
Recognizing the paper, knowing the talented hand responsible for the inscription of her name, she smiles. Waits and hopes the man responsible for her gift will be here soon. And the meantime, she sashays a little with the music feeling it move through her body, and she keeps time.
It's a Poe Dameron holiday party, so it's excessive even before it begins, and she loves every minute of it. Perched on a stool, mistletoe in hand reading for the hanging, laughing, Rey looks over to find her Ben Solo at last standing in the foyer. Maybe she imagines the relief in his eyes as they lock onto her.
"Hi."
Maybe she doesn't.
The obnoxious holiday music is still blaring - " Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas- " -and there are too many people stuffed into Poe's living room, but, soon, safe in Ben's arms as he pirouettes her carefully around the crowded room, Rey doesn't care. He says he's not the best dancer, but, holding her close, he keeps her safe from stray feet and pointy elbows.
"It's been a while," he confesses with her in his arms before executing a particularly difficult dance step, and she laughs.
Looking up into her dance partner's eyes, she falls ever more in love with him. The tree lights reflect in his eyes, turning them amber, as she steers him to a quieter spot, hoping that maneuvering them under the mistletoe isn't too obvious. It’s tiny, cheap, one of Dameron's 'jokes', but it looms large in her imagination as they dance closer and closer. It brushes the top of his head as they move into the doorframe where she’d hung it, and she can't help but wish as she looks up into his beautiful soulful eyes, expressive as always.
"What do you think, Ben?"
His arm span is roughly the length of a pterodactyl's wing, a fact often to his advantage. It's an advantage he claims with seemingly little regret now, as he clasps his own sprig of mistletoe, this one the real thing, in his massive paw as it hovers far above her, taking full advantage of the inches he has on her. As his free arm claps her tight as he bends her back into a deep kiss - the moan that escapes Rey’s lips might wake the dead - she can’t care.
She loses track of time, loses track of all the people around her. All that matters is him, and her. And as he leads her out on the balcony later, she shivers at the anticipation in his gaze. It could not be more perfect; the night is cold, the city alight and Ben at her back is steady, warm. Smiling, she sways in his arms and hums along to the out-of-tune carolling drifting in on the night air.
“I’ve missed you.”
They’d known each other such a short time, and yet, somehow, it feels as though they had been fated to find one another.
Giggling, she turns to look at him, “Ben, I saw you three hours ago, how could you have missed me already?”
He's nibbling on her ear as he clasps her tighter and she sighs in happy memory of how they'd met. He'd stumbled into the floral stop where she worked, had looked across the store, humid and warm in contrast to the storm outside, and, he'd later told her, had forgotten all about the need for a hostess gift.
“I've missed you always.”
He’d forgotten all about the storm outside, he’d said, forgotten all about responsibilities and pressing demands on his time - told her he had seen only the girl he'd always known he’d find, he’d later told her, carrying a massive poinsettia which almost sprouted from her arms, laughter warming her eyes. His voice had cracked, just on the edges, as he’d asked her name, and she’d smiled as she’d programmed her number into his fancy phone and asked him to dinner.
He’d said yes.
He’d said yes, and it had all begun - him, her, them, together, just as they are tonight, just as though it had been meant to be.
Ben breathes her name now with her in his arms, keeping her warm from the frost that lingers - it's more flurries than actual snow, but it's rare this far south, so they gather on Poe's patio to breathe it in. Looking up at her love, she can't help but wish; his lips meet hers even as she asks for his kiss.
"I worry about you driving in this tomorrow," Ben muses, tucks her into his coat even as he wears it, and zips them up, his lips barely leaving hers.
"I should stay with you tonight then," she says, smiles, and murmurs her pleasure.
There's chocolate on his lip, and as she reaches up to capture it with her thumb, she feels his breath quicken, hot on her palm. Smiling, she blesses the fancy cookies Poe had 'borrowed' from his company holiday party, which are encrusted with vanilla and chocolate icing, the rich kind that melts in your mouth and linger on your tongue. Rey had never thought frosting could taste as sweet as she kisses traces of those delightful cookies from Ben's lips.
Distracted, she doesn’t hear Poe at first as he approaches, just as she’d forgotten the presence of everyone else on this crowded balcony-
“Come you two, it’s time for eggnog-”
- so it’s easy to ignore it as he interrupts them, or tries to, anyway. Ben’s lips barely lift, so she feels rather than hears as he murmurs without taking his eyes or his hands off her.
“Fuck off, Dameron.”
And again there’s no more space between them - all else fades for another glorious moment as their lips meet again before their host insists on interrupting, reaching forward to hug them both into his arms at the same time.
“He’s not going to go away, is he?” she groans against Ben’s lips and feels them smile.
“Nope.”
The apartment feels much too warm and much too crowded after Poe drags them back inside, but Rey knows there's no escaping from this party, at least for now. She takes comfort in Ben's touch as she cuddles into his side as they mingle - as his touch lingers on the back of her neck and the small of her back, playing with her earring as the bauble dangles.
"Earth to Rey."
Startled, she turns to Finn and resists the urge to blush. Slinging his arm around her shoulder even as she hangs on to Ben’s waist, she shares a smile with her old friend as they watch Rose and Ben, deep in discussion about the book they're both currently reading - something about a schoolhouse and winter snow and sleigh rides.
"It's not my fault he's a redwood," Poe laughs moments later as Ben hits his head, again, once more failing to clear the low kitchen doorway, whacking his head, as he goes to fetch another serving from the mini-buffet they’ve set up on Poe’s counter.
He should stay safely snuggled with me on the couch then - is what Rey means to say; "I've always loved climbing trees," comes out instead. She blames Ben; it’s a hum in her brain all the ways he continually touches her this night (her back, neck, hand - his arm around her, playing with the wool of her sweater). Wrapped in the promised return of his touch, she’s almost distracted from the thought of all the savoury treats he’d sworn to return with.
Munching on a candy cane while she waits for him to return, she glories how the cold, sharp taste bites her tongue, cold and sugary and syrupy sweet. Though Ben isn't a fan of candy canes, Rey loves them - loves swirling them in her mouth, letting glorious peppermint dissolve on her tongue. Yet every time Rose hands her one tonight, Ben had somehow managed to snatch it before she can give it a good lick (makes no sense), so she enjoys this one, looking only slightly secretive and guilty as he returns and gazes down at her.
Before she can reach for the mince pie on the plate he presents her, it’s in his big hand, almost hidden by his thick fingers as he feeds it to her. Already anticipating the next bite, she opens her eyes to find Ben staring, gaze awed.
“What?”
He only shakes his head and lips his plush lips, and she must imagine it as his pupils go dark.
“Try this,” he says quietly, ignoring her inquiry. “I made it just for you, a replacement for the cheap candy canes you love.”
As he takes a small treat and carefully places it on her waiting tongue, she leans into his touch, Rey doesn't expect much from the tiny white candy even given how Ben made it. It explodes in her mouth - tastes of sugar and peppermint frothing light as air and melting into a puddle on her tongue. She breathes him again as he leans down to kiss her, tasting of sugar and home.
"Tastes even better on you," he murmurs, kissing her.
“Oh,” Rose sighs, resigned, as she carefully sneaks by them. “You two are going to be one of those .”
Blushing, smirking, eager to claim the man she thinks she might love, Rey can’t help but agree. She can’t help but try to wind her way to cling even closer to him. Later as they watch holiday movies with his crew, now his, as she looks at Ben's big feet in stockings patterned with pot-bellied half-naked Santas in furred hats - Poe's gag gift, naturally - it just feels right, the size of them looming over hers, as she sits cuddled into him. It just feels right, the sense of his body touching hers, the feel of his big feet tangled with hers.
They’re watching Scrooged - it’s the best - and they’re all laughing at jokes they’ve loved a million times; toasters, VCRs and Richard Burton. Everything is right in her world, and it’s sealed with a kiss - for if Rey hadn’t been sitting right next to him, so close she might almost feel his breath, she wouldn’t have heard Ben whisper.
“Merry Christmas everyone.”
Ben loves Christmas, she knows, loves the joy and the warmth of it, and has since he was a little boy, gazing at snowflakes and starlight and dreaming of Santa’s arrival. He loves Christmas, Poe tells her, always has, even as a teenager forced to endure his parent’s love of spectacle and overly ornate celebrations.
It’s hard not to think that she’ll grow to love Christmas too. The angel on Poe's tree is an heirloom - frayed around the edges from generations of use and Rey had long wondered what that's like, to have family holiday ornaments, to have a history of family holiday celebrations. She knows somehow she will find out that very feeling in the years to come. She knows this because Ben had told her, in so many ways with words and gestures, that he intended to show her. When she had wondered about the angel topper on Ben's tree she'd glimpsed last week dropping off a tin for him to fill with her favourite cookies, he’d taken the time to explain the origin and significance of every ornament.
"It's tradition," Poe whispers to her in the kitchen as Rey keeps an eye out for her boyfriend’s return, eager for the inside scoop. "Christmas is huge at Ben's house. Han and Leia are always Mr. and Mrs. Claus, and one year they got Ben to-"
As she makes a quick gesture, Poe shuts up, both of them looking innocently up at her boyfriend - “gotta go” her fellow rebel throws over his shoulder as he abandons her, the traitor - and she pretends butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She doesn’t worry about not hearing the conclusion to Poe’s story; she'll get the rest of the dirt off of him later. In the meantime, she concentrates on more important matters - leftovers.
Scavenging cookies tonight is a blood sport, though the only thing deadly is the chocolate.
Snatching the last two Reindeer Droppings - bite-sized cookies made of cocoa, oats and love - Rey smiles as Ben whispers in her ear.
"Don't worry; when I made them, I set aside a tray just for you."
Later, take-home bag full of scavenged cookies in hand, - her jacket done up by Ben, her scarf tucked in by Ben, mittens already donned at his insistence though his car is already warmed through the use of his remote starter - Rey says her goodbyes. She knows he’ll make sure she’ll get safely home, and home in this case means his cozy abode on the north side of town, tucked away in the hills that form the outlying edges of this mountain town. Then she’ll sleep - bedded, cosseted and snuggled by Ben in his big, warm bed adorned with the softest of linens and the warmest of blankets - she’ll sleep long and dream well.
Santa can place her presents under his tree.
Though truth be told, she wants for nothing - after all, she’s already everything she needs.