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"Knock knock," I say out loud as I knock on one of the black double doors of a familiar office. The room is dimmer than usual, but I can still see Morelli's figure at his desk.

He looks up and I can see his eyes shine a lighter brown in the light. I see him lean back in his chair as I walk into the room, closing the door behind me. "You know you don't have to knock," he says, a pen twirling in his hand.

I shrug, walking up to his desk, "I figure it's better to be safer than sorry."

His eyes narrow at me, at my implication. I wear an innocent look. Then his stare drifts over my body, and stops at my hands, the ones that are currently hidden behind my back.

He meets my gaze, what're you hiding?

Nothing, I obviously fib. I courteously take a seat in the chair in front of his desk, my usual spot when I visit him. And then I set a small black gift bag in front of him. He eyes it.

"What's this?"

I beam, "It's Christmas Eve Eve, did you forget?"

"There's no such thing as a Christmas Eve Eve, Hana."

"There is now."

He almost frowns, then looks at me, "You really shouldn't have, Hana."

"Okay," I shrug, "But I did."

His frown immediately wipes off his face, replaced with a hidden smile. That's the Morelli I've missed. I haven't visited the facility since last week. Since the day we both spilled our hearts onto the marble floor of this room.

I still don't know what to do about that, exactly.

I think pieces of my heart are still hidden with the collecting dust.

"Well?" I gesture toward the bag.

I can see his hesitation, but alas, he picks it up. Taking an excruciatingly long time, he finally takes out a black box that was buried under a mound of tissue paper.

He's silent, even after opening the small box and inspecting the contents of it. I can't dissect his reaction.

I feel something drop in my chest, "It's, uh- it's a fidget ring. You can spin the chain that's around it, because I always see you twist your rings when you're doing paperwork or when you don't know what to do with your hands. You're always doing something with your hands, so I figured you would like it-"

He finally looks up at me and I stop rambling. Then, he smiles, and fills back a missing chunk of my heart. I love it, he says.

He pulls it out of the leather cushion, and tries it on. Unconsciously, I hold my breath but thankfully, it fits.

He grins as he tries to the spinning mechanic. When he meets my gaze again, his eyes are even warmer, like the hot chocolate I had this morning. He keeps twisting it on his middle finger, "How'd you know my ring size?"

I lift up my left hand to show the lone silver ring on my thumb among my gold rings, "Took it from your desk. Figured you wouldn't miss it. It wasn't one of your favorites." I take it off and put it back on his desk. It's cute, though. It has different moons that you would find on those tarot cards. I would totally wear it if it wasn't silver.

He picks it up and examines it, "How'd you know it wasn't one of my favorites?"

I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes, "I really wish you didn't unlock curiosity. You should've stuck with being an NPC."

"Hana, did you forget you can't have storylines with NPCs?" He mimics my head tilt, with a raised eyebrow.

I roll my eyes, pulling my knees up to my chest, "I knew it was like, your least favorite ring, because you only ever wear it on your left index finger. And you never touch the rings on your index fingers, much less your left hand."

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