The late night Christmas day snow fell in gentle flurries, as it swirled in harmony with the cold December wind. The dusting fell upon the feet of collected snow that were packed along the sidewalk, brushing the tops of the frozen piles in a twinkling blanket that shimmered like a million tiny crystals underneath the glow of nearby street lights. The cement sidewalk resembling more of a gingerbread walkway with a light dusting of powdered sugar, rather than a quiet Chicago side street. The sprinkles of snow had been falling all day, through sunshine that peaked through ice crystalized branches during the peak of the daylight, and there was something about a fresh light snowfall on Christmas day that created an enchanting feeling in the atmosphere. As though you were walking through a real life sized snow globe on the most magical day of the entire year.
The winter cold whistled as though the wind that swirled around you, fell straight from the bitter blue lips of Jack Frost himself. The dropping temperatures nipping at your exposed skin peeking out from beneath your fluffy black scarf and the edge of your wrist where your wool coat inched upward. Feeling like tiny needles pricking at your flesh, as your nose felt as red as a certain friendly reindeer and your eyelashes fluttered away the watering tears of the piercing cold. But your hands, your right safely stuffed in your coat pocket, your left stretched out to the side, had never felt more warm. For your left, although exposed to the cold night air, was engulfed in not only the thin fabric of your gloves but the hand of another.
Derek Morgan's hand was the epitome of warmth. Not only in the heat that seemed to radiate from his well bundled body, like rays of beaming sunshine. That soaked instantly through your glove and throughout the palm of your hand, spreading the warmth through the numbing tips of your fingers and exploding like a wildfire throughout the rest of your body. Feeling the extent of his body heat soaring from the tips of your reddened ears beneath your knitted hat, all the way down to your chilled toes hidden inside of your tan leather boots. But in the feeling of his secure and tender hold of your hand, that warmed you on the inside. For this warmth bubbled in the pit of your chest, engulfing your beating heart that swelled from the gesture, in an overwhelming heat that made your cheeks blush with a reddened hue.
"And you're sure they weren't too hard on you?" Derek's continued inquiry breathed out in a puff of frozen December air. The breath freezing in a white cloud out in front of his lips, pausing in the air, before dissipating as though faint exhaust from a passing car.
Although it was your second Christmas spent with Derek Morgan, it had been the first you'd spent with the entire Morgan family. In fact, Derek's surprise of a spontaneous Christmas trip to his home in Chicago, was the first time you had been introduced to Derek's dear mother and his sisters. While your nerves were at an all time high as you introduced yourself to the most important women in his life, their graciousness and kindness engulfed you in a warming hug only a loving mother could provide.
Fran Morgan was sweetness; heart and soul. She loved her children with a strong conviction. But even as she feared for her son in his far away line of work, the same line of work that ultimately stole her husband from her, she supported his passion because she knew it was what he was placed on this Earth to do. She welcomed you with open arms, admitting she'd heard in Derek's sprinkle of phone calls to her about you, the way that he spoke of you. Knowing instantly that you made her baby happy. Even slipping in a subtle comment about the grandbabies she was still waiting on, bringing a pinkness to your smiling face and evoking an embarrassed groan from Derek's sheepish expression.
After a warm and filling homemade holiday dinner, filled with the flavors of Derek's childhood and even more stories to paint a vivid and adorable picture of the little boy this man had once been. In a home small and cozy, with the warmth of family nearly bursting through the seams, Derek excused himself to make a stop he made every time he travelled home. It was one near to his heart, a stop he always made time to make. Even now, as the hours of Christmas Day were drawing to a close, he still allowed himself five minutes to visit the graves of the boys who would forever hold a place in his heart. Assuring him that you were fine, sitting beside the twinkling decked out Christmas Tree with his sisters, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in hand, as it allowed for his family to get to truly know you. Without any possible outside influence from their "baby boy" or stern side eyed looks from him that made them hold onto their honest thoughts of you.
