Having Lucien in my old bedroom feels sacreligious. The posters have disappeared from the walls, the stuffed animals all donated to Phoebe, but it still feels the same. The cream wallpaper with flowers on it, the white bedframe that fairylights used to hang from, the soft but worn down carpet, it all feels so familiar and safe.
"So," Lucien smiles after having closed the door. My dad tried to have us sleep in seperate rooms for a second, until my mother rolled her eyes at him, telling him there was no way she was going to allow that. On second thought, it may have actually been a good idea, because my bed squeeks and doesn't leave much space. "This is where you lost your virginity, huh?"
I smack him in the back with the towel mum has put down for us in case we want to shower, a shit eating grin on his face.
"Don't remind me," I laugh, "mum grounded me over it way back when, but no doubt would she do it again just to help me remember how much of a shithead I was back then."
He takes off his shirt, neatly hanging it over the wooden frame chair in the corner. "You're staring, miss Middleton."
"And I will continue to do so," I let him know, watching how his still tan skin exposes stories I now know while his hands undo his belt. "I like to appreciate the beauty in front of me."
He just chuckles, now taking off his pants and placing it on top of his shirt. "Well just to it quietly, then, because both of our sisters are asleep only two doors down," he makes it seem like he means it for just a second, then makes his way over to me in nothing but his underwear.
"And my parents are down the hall," I remind him, feeling like a teenager again. "My brother's downstairs playing on his console..," I place my hands on his bare chest.
"Which is why we really shouldn't...," he grins, his hands finding the hem of my dress.
"Oh, we really shouldn't," I agree with him, eyes meeting. His hands take off my dress painfully slow, tossing it on the chair in stead of placing it carefully.
"Are you going to be able to stay quiet?" I tease, smiling.
"I could ask you the same, miss Middleton," his arms wrap around my waist, hoisting me up and tossing me on the bed as if I weigh nothing, the metal complaining immediately.

The carpeted stairs are warm under my bare feet as I make my way downstairs. It's a little past eight in the morning, but from the smell of cinnamon and coffee, some people are already up. Combined with Rocking Around the Christmas Tree on repeat, Phoebe's favourite Christmas song, I know it's at least two people.
"Morning," I smile, finding Phoebe at the table, tongue out of her mouth as she's folding napkins. I press a kiss to the top of her head, hair unbrushed and still in her pyjamas.
"Good morning Emma," she chirps, "did you see? There's more snow!"
It's covered by the semi-transparent curtains still being drawn shut, but when I open one, I see a thicker lay of white covering all of the yard. "You know what that means, right?"
She almost bounces off of her chair. "Snowmen!"
"After breakfast," I tell her. "When everyone's up and dressed. We'll build a big one again, yeah?"
I hug my mother, who's making fresh orange juice. She's in her robe and the same lavender pyjamas she's had for years, her greying hair up in a bun.
"Morning, mum," I lean my head on her shoulder. "It smells great."
"Morning, Linie," she replies, discarding the orange peel. "Oh, I love Christmas. Having you around, it feels like the old times, don't it? It's too bad Charlie had to go, or we really would've been complete."
There's a lot of sentiment to that statement, both knowing the family hasn't truly been complete for years now. It lingers in the air for a while, until she clears her throat and I can see her wiping away a stray tear.
"I'm happy to be here, too," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
"Now," she grabs another orange, cutting it in half almost viciously. "Will you go wake up your brother and sister? Dad's in the shower, and I want to serve breakfast at nine, not a second later."
"Aye aye, captain," I smile, causing her to swiftly kick me against the butt.
      "Rise and shine," I peak my head around the door into Beth's room, her room more lived in than mine, especially because she still actually lives here. There's pictures on the walls of her and her friends, there's a big white fluffy rug on the floor and clothes on a big chair in front of the window. "Sleeping beauties."
The girls are both in Beth's bed, the only thing I see from them is their hair. With a groan, I see my sister sit upright, her hair wild and some leftover mascara under her eyes. "It's early," she complains.
"It's also boxing day," I remind her. "Mum's made breakfast, and you know how she gets about breakfast."
Eschieve is also waking up, her groans louder than Beth's. "What time is it?"
"Eight seventeen," I tell her, resulting in another groan. "I know, welcome to the family, Eschieve. Now, you're expected at the breakfast table at nine, not a minute later." I leave the door wide open when I turn around, knocking on Daniel's door with force.
"Danny, rise and shine!" I know better than to open the door, having stopped doing that when he hit puberty. "Cover up, I'm coming in!"
With my eyes almost squeezed shut I open the door, then leave immediately.
I open my own bedroom door more quietly, staring at Lucien's sleeping frame for a good minute before I walk over to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"Time to wake up," I whisper, moving some hair from his face.
A grumbling and groaning Daniel walks past in just a pair of sweatpants as Lucien awakes slowly.

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