Emo Trinity x Reader

Advent Calendar - Dec 05

*Picture source: http://wintercozy.tumblr.com/post/168442416592/christmas-winter*

Words: 814
Warning: alcohol

The smell of caramelized almonds filled the crisp evening air, and the grey smoke of wood fires that were spread all over the square. You nuzzled your nose into your warm scarf and buried your hands in the pockets of your soft coat. The wooly hat you wore was a little too big for your head and it constantly slid too far down on your forehead, tickling the tiny hairs of your eyebrows. You squinted, trying to spot the young man you had a date with, but there were too many people around. Were you late? You were pretty sure Patrick had said to meet him by the crib. Just in that moment a shy voice close to your right called your name.

You spun around and were met with the sight of the blonde man trying to fight his way through the crowd over to you. Immediately you felt heat rising to your cheeks at his sight. It was probably not the best kept secret, but you had a terrible crush on Patrick since you had met him for the first time. What was obvious to everyone else but you, was that he felt the same way about you.

Patrick allowed a group of teenagers to pass him before he finally slipped through a gap in the crowd and stood in front of you.

"Hey," he greeted nervously, not sure if he was supposed to hug you, shake your hand, wave...

"Hey," you greeted with a broad smile.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," he apologized, "I hope you're not cold."

You shook your head. "Don't worry, I just arrived as well."

He nodded and since neither of you knew how to continue the conversation you just stared at each other, an awkward silence, filled with the chatter of strangers and the cheesy Christmas songs from the stands, spreading over the space between you.

"Do you want to take a look around," Patrick finally found the courage to ask.

"I'd love to," you agreed and so you started your expedition over the Christmas market.

It was a cold evening; sometimes single snowflakes fell from the sky, but by far not enough to dust over the streets or the roofs of the surrounding houses. Patrick and you marveled at the different things on display. There were cookie cutters for Christmas, different stands selling all kind of figures made from wood, some stalls were selling jewelry and others clothes and décor made from felt. When you passed the booth with the hard fruit drops, the ones of which you should never have more than two in a row, otherwise your palate would get sore, you mentioned how you had loved the apple and berry drops as a kid, so Patrick insisted to buy you a bag of each.

Now you stood shoulder to shoulder at one of the fires, warming up in the golden glow of the flames while you sipped on some hot mulled wine. The spices in the drink made everything feel like Christmas more than ever before, and your cheeks had taken a constantly red hue that did not only come from the cold and the alcohol, but also from being so close to Patrick.

Even though in the beginning there had been a lot of awkward silence, you now were talking and giggling carefree.

You had barely noticed how Patrick had snuck his arm around your waist, so he was able to hold you as close as possible, but you really did not mind in the slightest. You were even glad he was the one acting, otherwise it would have been at you, and no matter how tough you usually were, around Patrick you turned into a shy, nervous person.

Patrick and you had put your heads together, quietly talking and giggling, totally forgetting about the rest of the world. Patrick's face was so close to yours that you could easily see the fine dots of dark blue that were spread over his irises; and you were almost certain he had a few freckles over his nose. You barely noticed that once again the conversation had died down, both of you just staring at each other. Patrick's eyes fluttered to your lips and when he looked back into your eyes, they were questioning. Instead of answering the unspoken question verbally, you leant in, softly connecting your mulled wine covered lips to his, and following the slow rhythm Patrick was directing.

When you pulled away again, you were certain both you and Patrick had taken the color of your drinks, your cheeks glowing in a deep red. You loved the flustered and happy expression on Patrick's face so you kissed him again, and he was more than happy to kiss back.

Slowly, without any of you noticing, the snowfall got stronger, and slowly turned the Christmas market into a white winter paradise.