The first Christmas Noah spends at the Snyders is completely overwhelming. He has never seen so much food or been around so many people. The farm smells like a holiday movie with gingerbread faintly clinging to the air and cinnamon sticking to his cheeks as he moves about trying not to get in the way. He keeps taking some deep breaths to stop from running, the sheer nerves twisting his gut that he’s going to make a mistake and screw this all up
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But it’s quiet now, the twinkling of the lights bouncing around them, as they stand here in Emma’s kitchen inches apart. Underneath a tradition that is making Noah’s heart beat so fast he can taste it in the back of his throat. Luke is talking, like he always does, and Noah is just watching in awe how these words spill from those perfectly curved lips. Words that he wishes he could say, words that are screaming in his head that he knows, he understands, he feels.
“Noah, I love you. I am so in love with you.”
“Luke… same here.”
And under the mistletoe it sounds like I love you, too. Sorry for quoting half your ficlet back at you! Except not. Not sorry, that is. Gah, this is gorgeous. I love that quality in your words that makes you listen, you know? And maybe fall in love a bit. A lot. ♥
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“Noah, I love you. I am so in love with you.”
“Luke… same here.”
And under the mistletoe it sounds like I love you, too.
Sorry for quoting half your ficlet back at you! Except not. Not sorry, that is. Gah, this is gorgeous. I love that quality in your words that makes you listen, you know? And maybe fall in love a bit. A lot. ♥
Reply
Reply
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