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november
The November air was cold and clear, and Zinnia was the first to arrive.
This was somewhat out of character; Zinnia was almost always late. She wandered through life at her own meandering pace, doing whatever she felt drawn to at the time, which often meant she had little to no time awareness. The only reason she was actually on time was because of Timothée.
Nova's house was exactly as guessed, large and grand, and it glowed invitingly against the blackening sky. Timothée and Zinnia made their way up the driveway, and as they did, Timothée's hand swum the distance between them and his fingers slipped between hers.
Zinnia rang the tinkling bell on the door, and almost instantaneously it swung open, revealing Nova's beaming face.
"Zin!" She cried, and Zinnia barely had time to grin back before Nova pulled her into a warm hug.
It was no secret that Nova gave the best hugs of the family. She was gentle as rain in the way she held you, and there was a certain safety in her arms that all of her children adored.
Zinnia wriggled free, laughing.
"Have you always been this tall?" Nova asked, drawing Timothée in too.
"Afraid I have." He smiled.
"Come in, come in, I missed you so!"
Nova ushered them into the stately foyer, and the room glowed golden. Chandeliers winked merrily down from the ceiling, light glimmering on the white marble that everything seemed to be made of, and despite it only being mid-November, the railings on the double staircase were entwined with festive wreaths and sparkling fairy lights.
"Christmas already, Mom?" Zinnia inquired at the sight.
"It's never too early!" Nova said, laughing infectiously.
Timothée and Zinnia trailed behind Nova as she led them through the house to the kitchen, their hands entwined again.
The kitchen had clean white marble countertops and wide, glass sliding doors that overlooked the now inky black garden.
Zinnia watched her mother flit over bubbling pots and pans on the stove and check the oven with a swelling admiration. Nova took everything with utmost importance when it came to the press and business deals, but around her family she let that demeanour slip and her childish, playful truth shone through, and that was something Zinnia cherished about her. That and her effortless ability to make anyone feel at place in the world.
The chimes of the doorbell sounded, and Nova rushed off to answer it, leaving the two sitting on stools at the kitchen island, Zinnia's head resting comfortably on Timothée's shoulder.
"You'll get home alright later, won't you?" Timothée murmured softly, his eyes half closed.
"Yeah, I'll probably go with Den and Cole." came the response.
