Holiday Magic Epilogue - Nat Sewell

I’ve never seen the dawn of a Christmas morning. Not even when I was a child…or at least I don’t remember it.

But this Christmas morning, I stand and stare out of the windows of the living room as the sun’s rays breathe golden life across the snow outside. The metallic tone is mixed with electric pink and vivid orange, as though the morning is doing its best to remind people that there is still a brightness to the frosty world outside of their houses.

I draw in a deep breath and exhale it back out through a contented smile.

In the Warehouse, it’s warm and cosy, but I still wrap my arms around myself, only to find another pair of arms encircling me soon after.

Nat presses a kiss to the curve between my neck and jaw from behind, and I let my eyes flutter closed to enjoy the rushed sensation that simmers through me.

“Good—very early—morning,” she murmurs against my skin.

I turn to face her. “Good morning. I didn’t expect to see you up so early.”

“I wanted to give you your gift before the others woke.” She leads me by the hand towards the sofa, encouraging me to sit beside her. “Just the two of us.”

“My gift?”

She smiles brightly, eyes sparkling with more vibrancy and life than the dawn sun. “I did say I’d bought you it already.”

Of course. We’d spoken about it in the shop when we were on our stake-out. It was only a couple of days ago but feels like a lifetime after all the hecticness that came after. But then you’d think I’d be used to that these days. Time whirls by in such a blur, I barely have time to take a breath let alone take a moment to form deep memories.

I shake the thought away and instead focus on this moment that I definitely will be remembering for years to come.

Leaning back against the sofa cushions, I smile and nod. ‘Now I remember. The mysterious present. I have to say…I’m very intrigued.”

She reaches down behind the edge of the seat and draws out a box. Surprise hits me just at the wrapping. It’s so…perfect. Covered in a deep green paper, it’s tied in a golden tulle ribbon which sprays into a large bow on the top. Each corner is precise and crisp. No tears or crinkles.

After my initial shock, I manage to drag my gaze up from the present’s wrapped splendor to Nat’s just as magnificent gaze. “Did you wrap this yourself?”

“I’ve had many centuries to perfect my technique,” she says, chuckling before pressing the present closer to me. “Well? Will you open it?”

“Obviously!” I exclaim, reaching out to take it. My hands drop into my lap at the unexpected weight of the box. I set to opening it.

Shreds of thick paper spread out around me, coils of ribbon hanging from my legs, as I prise the wrapping apart.

After a moment, the box is open on my lap, and I am left speechless at what sits inside.

“Nat…” I breathe out.

Reaching into the box, I gently pull out the vintage-looking snow globe. The large crystal ball sits on a mahogany base that’s trimmed with a delicate ring of glimmering gold. Inside the globe, Wayhaven’s Square is captured in miniature, even the clock tower made to delicate tiny precision.

And standing in the centre, together, are two figures that resemble Nat and I.

I shake it with care, watching as glittering pieces of snow swirl and sway inside around the couple, who only have eyes for each other.

I glance up to Nat and realise just how accurate that is.

“This is…it’s too much,” I state, feeling the heft of the object as well as the smooth expensive material used.

Her hands wrap over mine either side of the globe. “Nothing is too much for you, ya rouhi.”

I gaze down at the snow globe again. Watching the snow gently drift down and settle.

Nat rests her hand on my cheek to draw my gaze back to her. A seriousness brushes her features with a slight frown. “Your life has likely not been what you expected it to be since you met us.”

I let out a soft chuckle at the accuracy of that.

“And I have watched you take on task after task, foe after foe, mission after mission,” she continues. “There is barely a moment for us. For you. But you need to remember to breathe.”

She nods at the globe. “And I hope that this can help you remember to do that. Remember the times over the past few days when it was just us with all the time in the world.”

I don’t know when it happened, but tears slip down my cheeks, and she catches them with a swipe of her thumb.

I clear my throat. “My gift to you might be a bit of a disappointment after this.”

“You are more precious to me than anything I could ever have imagined, [Name].” She draws in closer. “The only gift I need is you in my life. In whatever way you allow that to be.”

My breath stutters, and my heart does the same.

I reach out to match her gesture, my fingers soft on her cheek and warm against her skin. “You know you’ll never beat this gift, don’t you?” I joke.

“Don’t underestimate me,” she teases in return, a glimmer to her eyes that makes me believe her.

I drop my focus to the snow globe, giving it a slight shake, and capturing the serenity of this moment, knowing that Nat is the best gift I could ever have hoped for too.