𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 // mcyt apply fic // ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

⁰⁰⁸ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴜx ᴄᴏʀᴅ.

𝟶𝟶𝟾. [𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚡 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍.]

𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎.

-

Flora laughs, wrapping her coat tight around her body. Most of the snow has melted by now, and only a few stray piles of dirtied ice litter the roadside, but that doesn't make it any less cold, especially right after leaving an ice rink.

"Who's driving us back?" Karl asks, throwing his arm around her shoulder as they walk into the parking lot. The group is starting to split into different cars, all the other hockey players piling into Dream's car.

They're not back together again, despite the body language. They'd talked, and were back to being friends, at least for a little while. Somehow, after three years of dating, they'd ended back up in the talking stage.

"Well, Wil took me, so I figured I'd go back with him, but don't you want to go with the rest of the team?" She looks up at him, her cheeks dusted pink from the cold.

He shrugs, looking at her with a lovesick smile, pecking a kiss on her forehead. "Their car's full I think," He squeezes her hand as she leads them towards Wilbur's car, finally taking his arm off her shoulder when they approach the group taking his car.

"Who's taking shotgun?" Flora asks Iris and Techno, who seemed to be squabbling about that very thing, telling each other to take the front seat.

"They can't decide, they're too big of simps for each other," Wilbur grins from inside the car.

"Oh!" She smiles, delighted, slipping into the heated passenger seat. "Problem solved." Wilbur shakes his head, unable to shake the grin off of his face. The other three cram into the backseat, Wilbur starting the car up. Wilbur checks the back seat to make sure everyone's good to go, then turns to Flora.

"No, you cannot have the aux," He says, just as she opens her mouth to ask the question.

"What?!" She cries, offended. Karl peers over at Wilbur from behind Flora's seat.

"You heard me," He says, keeping a serious expression.

"Please, please, please!" She begs. He looks at her, her eyes sparkling, a big smile crossing her face.

Wilbur shakes his head. "You're going to play Christmas music," He predicts.

"Am not! Besides what's wrong with that?" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest childishly.

"It's January!" He exclaims. Karl senses this is an argument they have often. It makes his stomach turn with jealousy. How much time have they been spending together? Since when were they so close? Did this happen while they were on their last break? Why did he have the sudden urge to sucker punch Wilbur across the face?

"Please?" She begs, giving him puppy dog eyes.

He frowns. "No Christmas music," His voice is stern.

"No Christmas music!" She repeats, shaking her head with hopeful eyes, despite her being in a much chipper tone.

"No Michael Bublé."

"No Michael Bublé."

He sighs, knowing he's going to regret this. He hands her the aux, which she makes grabby hands at excitedly. As he pulls out of the parking space, she plugs the cord in. A moment passes, Flora tapping the screen of her phone quickly.

Then the silence fades and the first few notes of Michael Bublé's It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas begins to play.

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE."

She bursts out into giggles.

-

[𝟷𝟶.𝟸𝟹.𝟸𝟸]