These Hands Are Meant to Hold.

All through your life, you are told that Christmas is supposed to be a time of laughter and fun, a time for spending with your family and friends. Christmas is all about opening presents and eating way too much.

And up until yesterday, I believed all of it.

*

“C’mon, Cassie!” My little brother James whines, tugging on my hoodie sleeve, and then pouting when I refuse to move from my bed, where I’ve been sitting for the last hour.

“Go away,” I mutter, pulling my hood up so it conceals most of my face.

He obviously got the message as a few seconds later; I hear my bedroom door close. He’s probably off to pester another member of my annoyingly large family, who’ve all decided to cram themselves into our relatively small house this Christmas.

Ten people, all squashed into a house that usually only has four residents. Why can’t they have Christmas in their own houses? I know for a fact, that my Auntie Karen and Uncle Richard have a bigger house than us, why can’t they all crash there instead of invading my personal space!?

Now, so far, you probably think I’m a whiny bitch, a moody seventeen year old who’s main intent is to ruin the festive fun for her whole family.

Well you’re wrong.

The reason for my pissed off and grumpy mood is a boy, six foot tall, dark brown hair, mysterious brown eyes, and by far, the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.

He goes by the name of Aaron, and I love him.

And up until yesterday, I thought he loved me.

*

I grin excitedly as I climb out of the car, his present under my arm. It’s our first Christmas together and I want it to be special, so I’ve bought him the best present, I just hope he likes it.

I take a deep breath as I knock on the door, bouncing on the soles of my feet as I wait for him to answer.

As soon as I hear footsteps inside, my heart rate quickens. He has this effect on me, and it’s fucking pathetic to be honest, but I just can’t help it, every time I think of him, my stomach flips and erupts into butterflies. God, I sound pathetic.

The door opens and my heart swells as I see him, his beautiful face, however, is furrowed in what looked like concentration and anxiousness.

“Hey,” I grin, running my fingers through my red hair as I wait for him to say something.

“Hi,” He smiles, his face suddenly relaxing into that jaw-dropping grin that turns me into a pile of goo every fucking time!

“Merry Christmas,” I exclaim, leaning forwards and quickly pressing my lips to his before pulling him into a hug. His arms slide around my back and I relax into his touch as his gentle fingers stroke my hair.

“Merry Christmas,” He whispers into my ear.

I melt… again.

Grinning, I pull away from him, pecking his lips once more before handing him a small, white bag with a sparkling silver snowflake on the front.

“I hope you like it,” I smile. “I honestly spent forever choosing it out.”

“I’ll open it upstairs,” He smiles, taking my hand as he leads me up to his room, which has become like a second home over the last eight months.

He opens the door to his room and I can’t help but smile at the superhero figures and posters. He’s such a geek at heart, and he never lets anyone else in his room, apart from me.

It sit down on his bed, adorned with Batman bed sheets.

“Open it,” I smile as he sits down next to me, and I place my hand on his knee as I watch him tentatively.

He opens the bag carefully, as not to rip any of the delicate tissue paper underneath.

Soon, the small black box is revealed and my heartbeat quickens once more as I watch him.

Why does time seem to slow down when all you want it to do is go quickly?

He opens the box and nestled between the plush red velvet of the box, is a bracelet. It’s silver chain, glinting against the dim light of his room, the silver plate shimmering, bright enough to see your reflection.

He doesn’t say anything as he slowly picks it up and turns it over in his hand to reveal the engraving on the underside of the plate.

Forever and always.

I smile and wait for him to say something. “Aaron?” I whisper, squeezing his knee. “You gonna say something?” I ask.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers and my face creases into confusion, mirroring his face from earlier.

“What are you sorry for?” I ask gently, looking into his eyes, which I notice, are slowly tearing up.

He quickly shakes his head. “N-never mind,” He whispers, turning the bracelet over and over in his hands. “It’s gorgeous, Cas.”

I’m worried now, something’s wrong.

“What’s going on?” I say quietly, cupping his face so he’s turning to face me. I gently stroking his cheek but he pulls away, looking down at his lap like it’s the most interesting thing on the planet.

“My dad got a promotion,” He says quietly and I frown.

“Congratulations?” I ask unsurely but he quickly shakes his head, wiping his eyes.

“The job placement is in England.”

My heart stops. “E-England?” I whisper.

England as in, over 3000 miles away.

“Yeah,” He says quietly, rubbing his eyes as he clutches the bracelet tightly in one hand.

“Y-you can’t go…” I trail off, tears pooling in my eyes as he pulls me into a desperate hug, pressing his face into my hair.

“I’m leaving tomorrow night,” He mumbles as I feel him breathe me in.

For what was probably the last time.

*

Tears run down my cheeks as I replay all this in my head. I’ve tried to be angry about him leaving, but I can’t be angry at him, it’s not his fault.

He told me he’d ring me every day, and he’d always wear his bracelet.

And he said that no matter what, he’d be back in the summer to see me.

When I came home in tears the previous night, my parents simply told me to stop being silly, and that I’m young, I’ll find someone else no problem. But I don’t want anyone else, I want him.

I pull his hoodie tighter around me and breathe in his musky smell of cologne and shampoo, and I pray the scent won’t fade in the upcoming lonely months.