𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃, chris sturniolo

031.

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₊❏❜ ⋮ ᶠᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᵍᵒˡᵈ ⌒
𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒-𝗈𝗇𝖾
ʳᵉᵃˡ ˡⁱᶠᵉ

❝ only if you let it. ❞

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THE STURNIOLO FAMILY—aside from Bianca—have gone to their rooms after what seemed to be a long, tiresome winter day in the village. A chorus of 'goodnight' erupts before each bedroom door closed behind them. Meanwhile, Bianca stays behind in the living room with a novel in her hand that she had purchased earlier when she was out and about with Chris. Legs stretched out across the couch and the book on her lap, all while she's met with the comfort of silence.

A chill runs down her spine as the same frigid air roams freely like a ghost. In an attempt to warm herself up, Bianca kneels in front of the cold fireplace, struggling to ignite the dry wood with a flickering match. The pile of firewood seems resistant to her efforts, remaining stubbornly unlit. Just as her patience waned, Matt quietly approaches her, a warm smile on his face. Without a word, he takes the matchbox from her hand, striking a match the same Bianca tried to, but this time a flame sparks brightly as he carefully lights the kindling.

The fireplace roars to life, casting a warm, golden glow that dances and flickers like a playful fire sprites. The flames sway and intertwine, their hues transitioning from vibrant orange to deep crimson, painting the room with an enchanting palette of colors. As the logs crackle and pop, tiny embers shoot into the air, creating a mesmerizing display of fleeting stars.

Bianca conveys her gratitude with a thankful smile before returning to the couch. Matt mirrors her actions—they sit quietly, neither uttering a word for a moment before Matt clears his throat. "How are you liking it here so far?"

Bianca contemplates, her gaze drifting to the cabin's interior. "I love it. This is the first time I get to have a white Christmas."

"Oh? You didn't go away for Christmas when you lived in LA?" Matt wonders.

The girl shakes her head, a wistful smile playing on her lips as memories resurface. "My mom was always working," she confesses, toying with the corner of the page in her book. "So, I would celebrate it by myself. It didn't really feel like Christmas, though; there was no snow outside. It just felt like a regular day to me."

Matt offers an apology, sensing the bittersweet undertones of her recollections. Though, Bianca waves him off, chuckling as she tells him there's nothing to be sorry about. "Well, I'm glad you're here with us."

"Thanks, Matt," Bianca smiles with gratitude intertwined with it. She hasn't gotten the chance to really connect with Chris' brothers because she was always with him. To have a conversation with Matt is enough for her.

"How's Elle?" The brunette wonders. She sees the glint in Matt's eyes, a crimson color painting his cheeks—the mention of his girlfriend has him smitten like a shy little boy. . Bianca can discern the depth of his love, it's nice to see that there are men out there who can love a woman so loudly and so proudly that it shows.

"She's good! She just landed in France with her dad—they're staying at her grandparents' house for a few days and then she'll come here just before New Year's." The smile on his face widens.

After moments of sitting, listening to the crackling fire, it is disrupted. "Can I ask you something?" Matt blurts out, surprising Bianca with the sudden question. She nods slowly, though anxiety creeps up on her as those five words never mean a good thing.