If Kisses were Snowflakes (LAMS)

2

A/N and now the story gonna really begin...

His cold fingers fumbled with a loose thread on his coat, winding it around his index finger tighter and tighter and tighter until it faded to purple. The speeches happening buzzed as background noise, paying no mind to them he prodded at his numb finger, almost as numb as he felt inside.
Alexander released the thread and glanced up, seeing his mother's face. Her eyes were hollow, glazed over like winter puddles, cold and still. Her skin was pale and waxy, extra pale against the black of her thick cloak and long dress. His eyes then shifted to his father, a different book but the same story. The pain in his eyes could murder a battalion.

Then he saw James, his dark hair neatly framing his solemn face. He had matured plenty, his features now chiselled and strong. He was a handsome young man when he was alive, now he just looked sad. Everyone did.
The coffin was dark stained cherry, it's glossy red glow a sharp contrast to the stark white snow gently fluttering down, getting caught in eyelashes and kissing cherry noses.
As stunning as the scene was, Alex just wanted to throw up. He'd shared his memories, he'd said his farewells, now he wanted it to be over.

He meant no offence to his brother in saying that, he loved him dearly, but it was a late funeral. Alex had already done most of his mourning in the weeks prior, and having to revisit the topic was slicing back open a wound he'd been trying desperately to heal.
James' death came as a shock to everyone, right at the peak of November, and with Christmas fast approaching it seemed that Alex was the only person who was desperate to get the final preparations underway.

Perhaps it was now habits from being James' right hand man that were making him think like this. James wasn't the most focused Santa the North Pole had ever seen, he did rely on Alexander an awful lot to keep things running smoothly, not that Alex minded however. It provided him with a warm sense of validation, reminding him that he was needed here, but now that James was gone- well, what came next? Alexander was 21 now, his birthday taking place right at the start of the year, the 11th of January, but he was in no way prepared to take on the role of Santa Claus. It took years of training, James could tell you, and he didn't find a Mrs Claus at 16 like James did.

His father would have to step back in, then Alexander could continue as right hand man, nothing would change, his job would just consist of less micro-managing and more actual assistance.
Alex hadn't even realised the service had ended until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, his eyes flickering up to watch the coffin lid close.
"Alexander." A familiar voice murmured, smooth and calm.
"Burr." Alex breathed with relief, turning slowly to face his old idol. "Good-evening."
"To you too," Burr nodded politely. "Care to accompany me back to the Claus house?"

Alexander hesitated, knowing how this would all unfold. He didn't want to deal with a 20 minute trip of 'I'm sorry for your loss', so he shook his head gently.
"Thanks for the offer, Aaron, but I was actually just going to go- uh, take some time for myself, if that's okay." Alex spoke slowly, his tone sheepish. Aaron met his uncertainty with a warm smile of understanding.
"Take your time, we'll all be there when you're ready to come back."

"Thanks," Alex's lip tugged into a tiny smile, watching Burr turn and walk back with the rest of the operatives.
Alex sighed through his nose, a tiny cloud puffing in front of his face. He waited for the crunching of snow to fade away before he began making his way further out into the cold, disappearing into the white abyss.

It was 8pm when he returned, four hours since the service. Most everyone had left their humble home, leaving his parents to inhabit the kitchen. His father stood by the island bench delicately carving up slices of pumpkin for the dinner he was preparing while his mother sat perched on a stool, keeping a cup of peppermint tea warm in her gentle hands.
"Alexander, darling, you're blue." Martha frowned when she saw him, standing from her seat and moving towards him with her cup of tea in hand.