Christmas 2k22 - Blog Posts

they should never put this in the kitchen, chrissy thought through her hazy bubble cloud of wine cooler and winter break-fueled good mood. it was almost a languid sort of cheer that had hit her this late in the evening; she rarely stayed this late at parties but the smiles in every direction passively persuaded her to let the night drag on further and further until everyone would inevitably become a half-drunk and sleepy mess of laughter and jokes that never quite landed yet sounded hilarious regardless. but she’d forgotten about the trademark seasonal trap the party host had hung in a kitchen entryway, beyond which the siren song of a sofa crooned chrissy’s name. ....right - she’d been meaning to watch out for the mistletoe earlier. and missed her cue to glance up before nearly sliding past nancy right under it — until she noticed nancy’s movement grind to a halt, too. stupid little plant thing.

before her already alcohol-pinked cheeks could bloom any darker, chrissy giggled with all the air she had left in her lungs. oh, this would be easy, actually. no problems here.

                          ❝ oops, i guess! merry christmas break, nancy. ❞  there was no needing to think her plan through twice before swinging an arm about nancy’s shoulders and giving her a smack square on the cheek. perfect.  ❝ that counts, right? since we’re under here, i think we should make the rules. ❞  

                    —     a      🌿     for    @rebelcliche​

the air was cold, actually cold in hawkins for december. chrissy could be fooled into thinking that the place where she’d grown up was a place that made sense, where right side up really was the right side, and seasons were as black and white as they were supposed to be. but that illusion couldn’t be anything but fleeting. california fit more like a home for the past five months than hawkins ever had, even though it was fractionally warmer than what she was used to in winter, to the point that the beginning of december hadn’t felt real there until she’d arrived back in hawkins. where all the old, familiar places had shrunk into pitiful, sad imitations of what younger chrissy lived with so willingly.

there was one last place that still managed to make her feel welcome when all else fell through, one place that felt innately warm: the munson stoop. an emphatic middle finger to the blustery chill shooting shards of wracking frigidity through chrissy’s coat. eddie would be proud to know.

he was why she was there in the first place, rocking on her toes after knocking at the door. it had taken a minute to work up enough assurance that this wasn’t a mistake before her knuckles hit metal, but it happened. she knocked. and now she’d wait for the door to open and for just the right greeting to float down from her brain when it did. 

except when it did open, chrissy stalled. 

five long months of nothing but notes and letters and phone calls since summer ended, and there was eddie munson just a few inches away. in the flesh.

                      ❝ hi? ❞  what a way to sound the opposite of confident, but when chrissy meant so much, almost too much, by her announcement-free arrival, it was hard to know what to say first.  ❝ i hope that....   —  oh, forget it. merry christmas, eddie. i thought i’d try to surprise you. ❞

                       SURPRISE! merry christmas, @hellmartyr​ !