A Midnight Christmas


                                            >With Midnight fully occupied by a YouTube video on an obscure car model you mentioned moments ago, you sneak off to your room and close the door.

                                            >It's finally time.

                                            >The closet door swings open under your guidance, showing off the purposeful clutter of shirts, linens, and shoes at the back wall.

                                            >True, she never goes in here, but better safe than sorry.

                                            >You don't remember the last time you bothered with... well, anything related to the holidays.

                                            >Certainly not bothered with Christmas for many years.

                                            >But this year felt different.

                                            >Like there was a reason to celebrate - apparently living with someone makes that change.

                                            >It's why you decided to buy some colorful LED light strings to hang in the living room.

                                            >Midnight didn't really understand the point of it - frankly, you don't either, at least in regards to the holidays.

                                            >But the glow at night is really nice with the lights off.

                                            >You have to carefully feel around for the box before picking away at the clothes pile, fearful of tearing up the wrapping paper.

                                            >The basic shape is there to see, considering the box is sitting on the end, and waist-high...

                                            >Yeah, there wasn't much hiding going on.

                                            >Still, you play it cautiously and carefully to avoid any tears.

                                            >Yes, tears in the wrapping paper - paper you had to buy specifically for this.

                                            >As well as basically teach yourself how to wrap something and make it look nice.

                                            >"Are you fighting with yourself in there?" Midnight comments out in the living room.

                                            "Yes, I was in need of an ass-kicking this evening," you grunt while moving the present out onto the bedroom floor in an awkward manner.

                                            >"I could have done that. It would have been more fun," she sasses back.

                                            "Shut up and watch your video."

                                            >"I did, I skipped through it because the narrator had a voice akin to stabbing my eardrums with a rusty screwdriver."

                                            "Cheater."

                                            >You toss some errant attire back into the closet before shutting the door, and ready yourself to head back out into the living room with the present.

                                            >The shiny blue bow on top is a little smushed, that would have probably been better off added later.

                                            >Not that it matters - it gets tossed anyway, along with the reindeer print paper.

                                            >While not overly heavy, the weight it does hold along with the awkward size makes it more than a trivial manner to pick up and carry out to the couch.

                                            >Having made her suspicious by the sounds and time spent in another room, Midnight's wary eyes are already awaiting you.

                                            >Though that hawk-like stare doesn't last but a fleeting moment upon seeing the parcel you're lugging ahead of you.

                                            >"The hell is that?"

                                            "Merry Christmas, Middie!" you cheer.

                                            >Midnight silently mouths that phrase, looking utterly bewildered as you sit on the couch next to her and set the box on the table ahead of you.

                                            >"I'm lost," she admits, shaking her head free of fog.

                                            "You know, Christmas. The same reason the lights are strung up?" you propose, motioning to the colorful display lignin the corners of the ceiling.

                                            >"Oookay..."

                                            "Huh, I guess I would have thought you would look up the holiday when I brought it up a couple of weeks ago while rigging the lights."

                                            >"I dunno. I didn't think much of it," she shrugs, her vision shifting between you and the present.

                                            "I won't go into the whole specifics, just what pertains to... well, that," you reply, pointing to her gift. "Season is a time of giving, and I got you something. I suppose it's sorta for me, too - but I know you really wanted this."

                                            >Midnight shifts about in her seat, looking rather discomforted by your brief explanation.

                                            >"Well shit. I didn't know that, so I didn't get you anything," she mutters.

                                            "Ah, don't worry about it. That's kinda my fault. And since you purchase stuff with my cards... I guess I would have seen it," you jest. "I didnt get this with the anticipation of receiving a gift, don't sweat it."

                                            >She does not look convinced by your reassurance, seemingly shying away from both you and the gift.

                                            "Come on, open it!" you goad her with a light shove to the shoulder.

                                            >The encouragement earns at least a thin upturn to her lips.

                                            >She leaves the present resting on the coffee table, opting to use a couple of metal tools to start ripping and tearing at the wrappings.

                                            >Revealing a plain brown cardboard box.

                                            >"Seriously?" she grumbles.

                                            "I'm not screwing with you - open the box now," you reply, pointing to a stapled flap that's been hastily taped back into place.

                                            >While not quite letting you off the hook with the possibility of shenanigans afoot, Midnight obliges you, pulling open the flap and peering inside.

                                            >From your vantage point, you can see the gleam from the chrome-like finish on the tubes.

                                            >"These are... you got ceramic headers for the Chrysler?!" she gasps, her wide eyes flicking back to you.

                                            "I said I wasn't screwing with you."

                                            >She prances in place with glee for a moment, before enveloping you in an enthusiastic wing hug.

                                            >"Thank you, thank you!" she cheers.

                                            >At least for a moment, she's beside herself with joy.

                                            >But that shifts away to a more sober mood.

                                            >"Well... I'm happy, but I kinda - it feels shitty knowing now I should have gotten you something," she mumbles.

                                            "Mid, I'm not worried about it. Heck, those are kinda for me too, just like I said before."

                                            >"That doesn't make it better," she pouts.

                                            >While you understand the sentiment, you really want to get happy Middie back for more than a few seconds.

                                            >You casually glance around the room, looking for... well, anything that can bring the moment back.

                                            >Your eye stops on the torn gift wrap settled on the floor.

                                            >More specifically, the metallic blue bow...

                                            >bending down to retrieve that scrap, you carefully tear away the remaining paper affixed to the bow before turning to Midnight.

                                            >Her curiosity is piqued by your interest in what now amounts to trash - which only turns to confusion as you take the bow in your hand and place it amidst her hair on top of her head.

                                            >"Uhhh..."

                                            "Oh my gosh, you did get me a present," you gasp in excitement.

                                            >"Anon, just... shut up," she replies in a quiet, bashful voice.

                                            >But even that tinge of embarrassment can't hide the smile from her face growing back.

                                            "It's what I always wanted," you coo, leaning toward her until your nose touches hers.

                                            >Technically, you aren't lying as you get lost in those beautiful blue eyes.

                                            >Midnight playfully nips at your nose, before settling into a nuzzle as you gently pull her close.

                                            >"That's really corny. I'm going to hold this stunt against you," she teases.

                                            "That's fine. At least you didn't forget to give me a gift for Christmas. Or every day of the year."

                                            >"Oh man, you're really wading deep into the bullshit now."

                                            "Am I?"

                                            >She's silent at that - though it's a moment she takes to carefully step into your lap.

                                            >"... Merry Christmas, Anon."

                                            "Merry Christmas, Midnight."