Snow Boots (#3)

w r e a t h

"Christmas is so close, I can almost smell the mistletoe I'm not going to be kissed under." – A Relatable Post

Dedication: Qinfinity8 for your lovely comment on the previous chapter! Thanks for the vote of confidence and support <3

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Andrew's POV

"Bleurgh! Who brewed this crap coffee? It tastes like spoilt milk and tears of children. Erin, did you buy this on purpose?"

"It was the only coffee they had! My jumbo chocolate chip cookie tastes like sawdust, so I'm not much better off. Stop complaining and grow a pair, Alex."

"Mom, dad, shush! His finger's twitching."

"Why's it doing that? Is he having a seizure?"

"Don't be ridiculous. He's obviously summoning Satan."

A blur of tones jumbled within Andrew's mind. He had no time to decipher whose voice was whose, since each were dominated by a scream that rang in his mind. Sound waves bounced within his skull, echoing with one familiar voice. Pitchy and infused with terror. The strangest thing about that voice? It was shouting his name. Andrew.

Recent memories escaped his grasp. The only fact that remained in his befuddled mind was that he was cast under the glare of fluorescent lights, glowing beneath his eyelids. The sight was marvellous with closed eyes; an explosion of scarlet and gold.

"Maybe he's trying to make a finger puppet."

"I'll never understand how you two became parents."

"Honey, it starts with the birds and the bees–"

"Erin, Lucy's brother died and came back to life a few days ago. She doesn't need the talk."

"...I can't believe we almost lost him."

"If that Quinn girl hadn't called the ambulance in time, he probably wouldn't have made it. We need to thank her once Andrew's recovered."

"How about we send her a few tubs of ice cream and call it a day?"

"That's such a–"

"Hey," one of the voices murmured beside Andrew. The other two became fuzzy, while this one became clearer. He could feel her warm breath tickling his right ear. A light floral fragrance wafted past his nostrils. Perfume. A familiar one, at that.

He had enough sense to register that this was not the one who screamed. Although the identity of the persona remained a nagging sensation at the back of his mind, he deduced that this voice was younger. Calm and controlled. He envisioned a teenaged girl, adorned with swirling hazel eyes. Caramel curls with natural golden highlights.

"He's waking up!"

Two voices had chimed in unison. Images of both hazy faces swam into view in his mind. The woman with a motherly beam, illuminating her mischievous hazel eyes and auburn waves. The man whose smile was softer, more soothing, a reflection of Andrew's own. His blonde hair unkempt from days of running his hand through it. Blue eyes twinkling like sapphires.