·Christmas Day 4·
When the band finished playing,
They howled out for more
Sinatra was singin'
All the drunks they were swingin'
We kissed on the corner
And danced through the night
Y/n threw a pot into the sink. "What's your problem?" Max asked, typing away on his phone. Y/n chuckled as if he told a pathetic joke. "What's right, do tell me Max." Max set his phone aside. "Well I don't know if you don't tell me." She stopped washing the pot for a second. "You've just been on the phone all day and it's the 25th of December. Couldn't you not text Lando or Daniel and spend spend a little time with me?" Max scoffed and returned to his phone. "You're just being selfish, I haven't seen them since Abu Dhabi-"
"Selfish? I'm selfish? You might not have seen Max and Daniel since Abu Dhabi but I haven't seen you since the week before Jeddah!" Max rolled his eyes. "Just let me finish this conversation and I'll get back to you." "You shouldn't have to get back to me. You should prioritise the ones you love!" Y/n shouted. Max waved her remarks away. "You always do this-"
"You always start fights! I don't know what else you want from me Max-"
"How about listening? That would be a good start!" Max snarled. She spun around and pointed a wooden spoon at him. "Don't you dare say I don't listen. I listen to every single little detail about your day and whenever I tell you about mine, you go off saying I'm not thinking about you." Max had found he backed up a bit sinnce she followed him with the spoon. "Oh poor, poor Maxy baby, I didn't listen to what he ate for breakfast in the Red Bull hospitality and I just had to know whatf it was, didn't I?" He was shocked, lost for words. They'd fought before, obviously but he'd never heard her speak in such a venemous tone."
"Y/n, let's just talk about this-" Y/n cits him off with a laugh. "Oh now you want to talk?" Max nodded. "Honestly, go fuck yourself." She threw the spoon back into the water ans stormed off to their bedroom, locking the door behind her and lying down.
Max leaned onto the counter. Why was he like this? She was right, he should tell her she was right but he always felt the urge to fight. Eh
He turned and looked towards the tree in the kitchen. It twinkled and glimmered, highlighting the tin self and baubles. She did a good job decorating it. Max didn't even help. He looked at all the lovely decorations, each ever so beautiful. His eyes however, landed on one particular bauble, with the word New York 2017 written on it. He arched an eyebrow. They met in 2017, they'd never been to New York, what on earth was this? He turned it and saw a photo of them on Christmas Eve, going on Christmas Day. Max looked ever so drunk and Y/n, well as usual looked perfect. He smiled at the memory as it came flooding back to him, the very night they met, the first Christmas they had knowing eachother and one of many.
Max stumbled out of the bar with insults being hurled at him in French, English and many other languages, most he couldn't understand. He sarcastically lifted his hand, shaped as though there was an invisible bottle kr glass in it. "Happy Christmas and a Happy New Year to you too mate!" he shouted. Max was drunk, too drunk and his father was back in the Netherlands for the time being, meaning Max was spending this Christmas in particular alone. He walked for a little while until he heard some singing. He looked around, confused as to whether it was the radio or someone on the street and as he finally found the woman, bundled up in warm clothes with a guitar on hand, he found that it was in fact on the street.
Max sat on the curb beside her and looked up at her. She sang so effortlessly. Her hair blew in the wind. She looked phenomenal and his stares didn't go unnoticed by the busker. "What? Are you just going to stare?" the girl asked. Max smiled as he held his chin up with his hand. "I can't help it. You sound like an angel." The girl began blushing furiously and decided to pack up her guitar and head home since it was getting colder by the second. "Wait, where are you going?" Max asked as he watched her pack her stuff up. "Away from you." Max tumbled up and began walking towards her. "I don't want to come across as weird or creepy but your voice is very beautiful." She was taken back by the compliment. "Why would that come across as creepy? It's a nice little compliment." He gave a dopey smile.
"We're in New York! It's the most romantic city in the world!" Y/n arched a brow. "Isn't Paris- We're not even in New York- nevermind. Just-" she gestured forward. "let's go." Max took her hand into his and walked with her down the Monaco coast. She stared at his hand. She didn't exactly expect to catch feelings with this questionable looking boy so quickly but here she was, happily holding hands with him as different Christmas songs played in the back. "Do you like Christmas?" Max asked. She could only shrug her shoulders. "I don't know. It always depends on my mood."
"How do you mean?" he asked. "Well, it depends mainly on-" She was cut off by a gasp. "Listen!" They fell silent, listening to T be meoldy of The Fairytale of New York playing. "Yeah, it's a nice song." She arched a brow. "No, it's my favourite song. Come, come." He ushered her towards him, begining to dance with her. "Why is it your favourite song might I ask?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I think it's because I can actually curse in this song." She giggled. "Of course, I don't know why I wouldn't expect anything less of you." Max continued swaying to the song, twirling her around every so often. "Aw, the song is ending." Max pouted. "Not yet though, we can keep on dancing." The continued on dancing, little by little until the music stopped and a local bar started a countdown to Christmas day. The pair excitedly counted along and then, once the bells rang out, they kissed in the corner outside the bar. "Oh wait, kissing at midnight is for New Year's, isn't it?" Max asked. Y/n laughed loudly, louder than she'd ever laughed before. "You did, but I don't mind doing this again for New Years."
Max walked towards the bedroom and knocked the door. "Y/n? Are you in there?" Max asked. The only respons ehe got was a muffled, "Go away." He opened the door and saw her, laying with red, puffy eyes. She'd obviously been crying. "Aw, Y/n-"
"Don't baby me Max. I'm your girlfriend, not your child." Max arched a brow. They shared a look and burst into laughter. "I'd hope you weren't my child." He rubbed her back. "You know what I mean though. Don't talk to me like that." Max nodded. "Okay. I don't want to fight, not on Christmas." Y/n scoffed. "That's all we ever do nowadays." Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry." Y/n sat up. "You don't know how much I sacrificed to actually date you." Y/n mumbled. "My dad literally kicked me out. He didn't like you one bit but I still decided to be with you." Max sighed. "I know and I'll never forget that." The room fell silent. Neither dared say a word·until Max finally broke the silence. "I love you." He whispered. Y/n felt a smile creep onto her face.
"I love you too." She muttered back. Max rubbed her leg a bit. "If it makes it any better, I finished the dishes." She grinned. "It makes it a little better. At least now we can relax and actually spend some time together." Max leaned forward and kissed her nose. "You know I love you to pieces." She nodded. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Merry Christmas Y/n."
"Merry Christmas Max."
