BIRD-FILLED SKY… CHRISTMAS WEEK… AND A CITY WRAPPE
The whole city looked like it was wrapped in a soft winter spell. Birds circled above the skyline, the chilly air kissed my cheeks, and everything glowed under a faint golden light.
And there I was—
sitting alone on a cold wooden bench, watching the winter sunset melt slowly into the horizon.
Even the dying sun seemed to be in a strange mood today…
I had come here searching for peace, but somehow it only made my heart more restless.
But the longer I sat,
the more my heart twisted—
tight, aching, unsettled.
Christmas week was beginning.
People smiled everywhere—stringing lights, buying gifts, humming joyful songs.
Everyone loved Christmas.
Except me.
Christmas.
The word itself felt like a bruise.
I hated it.
Hated the season.
Hated the memories it dragged back from the darkest corners of my mind.
Because of him.
Only him.
Every time that night crept into my thoughts, a shiver ran down my spine—
slow, sharp, electric.
Even now, when the winter breeze brushed my cheek,I didn’t feel the cold.
I felt him.
***************************************
My name is Mayara.
A reporter.
And trust me — whoever said reporters never get a day off… they were absolutely right.
Last year's Christmas week…
My situation had gotten so bad that even one week off felt like heaven.
Every Christmas, I spent my days shooting others’ joy, capturing their moments, their families, their memories…
And honestly, I was tired.
This year, I wanted Christmas for myself.
Mom and Dad were also out of town for a medical camp—(Yeah, both of them are in the medical field, and yes, I am ridiculously proud of that.)
Just when I was sinking into the same old routine, my friend called.
“We’re going for a whole one-week Christmas trip!”
She sounded so excited that I literally jumped out of my seat.
But… the excitement vanished in the next second.
How the hell was I supposed to get a leave?
That’s when Lucy—my beautifully chaotic best friend—said,
“Don’t worry, baby girl. I have a solution. Give me five minutes, I’m coming over.”
And now, I was just waiting…
wondering what kind of storm her mischievous brain was about to unleash.
Praying that whatever plan she had wouldn't cost me my job.
But honestly…
there’s no point worrying.
Once Lucy decides something, she does it.
No matter what.
Just when I was about to overthink myself into an early grave, my doorbell rang—twice, aggressively.
Yep.
Only one person in the universe rings my bell like she’s about to break it.
Lucy.
I opened the door, and there she stood—
Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, hair spilling freely over her shoulders like she’d just stepped out of a winter fairytale. Even in a pink high-neck top and a cropped jacket, her figure still curved in all the right places—effortlessly, dangerously.
The skinny leggings hugged her so perfectly that the shape of her hips and the curve of her butt were impossible to ignore. In that freezing weather, she looked nothing less than a Christmas-party bell-fairy—a little too bright, a little too tempting for a night like this.
And her eyes…
God, those eyes were glowing with the kind of wild excitement that usually meant only one thing:
Trouble was about to find someone.
Or maybe… she was the trouble.
“Mayaraaaa!” she dragged my name dramatically as she barged inside without waiting for an invitation. “Pack your bags.”
I blinked. “What? Why?”
She tossed her fluffy jacket on my sofa and turned to me with her hands on her hips.
“Because,” she said proudly, “I got you a leave.”
I swear my soul left my body.
“What did you do?” I whispered, already scared.
She grinned like a villain in a Christmas movie.
“Relax! I didn’t kill anyone. Yet.”
Then she sighed dramatically. “Though your boss did test my patience.”
“Lucy!” I nearly screamed. “What did you do to Mr. Sheldon?”
“Nothing serious,” she said, waving her hand casually. “I just… might have told him you were mentally exhausted, emotionally drained, physically collapsing, practically dying—”
“LUCY!”
She shrugged. “Hey, I made it sound dramatic so he feels guilty.”
“I’m a reporter, not a tragic heroine!”
“Same thing,” she said. “Anyway, he approved the leave. Seven days. Full week. No phone calls.”
I stared at her.
She stared back.
“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper.
Her grin widened.
“Pack. Your. Bags.”
I didn’t even know whether to laugh or cry.
But one thing was certain:
I was finally getting my Christmas.
And knowing Lucy…
this trip was going to be anything but normal.
By evening, my tiny apartment looked like a suitcase explosion.
Clothes everywhere.
Lucy dancing with my scarf for no reason.
Me trying to find my other boot.
“Lucy, where exactly are we going?” I asked for the 534th time.
She smirked, zipping her bag.
“A surprise.”
“I hate your surprises.”
“No, you love them,” she said, grabbing my cheeks. “And even if you didn’t… it’s too late now.”
Before I could argue, she dragged me out, locked my door, and pushed me toward her car—an old red Jeep decorated with fairy lights because… well, it’s Lucy.
The cold air slapped my face as we stepped outside.
Christmas songs drifted from different houses, lights twinkled on balconies, and the whole street smelled like cinnamon and hope.
Once we were inside the Jeep, Lucy started the engine and turned to me with a devilish grin.
“Ready?”
“No.”
“Perfect.”
We drove for hours—through sleepy towns, misty roads, and long stretches of forest lined with snow-kissed trees. The sky slowly faded from orange to an ink-blue sprinkled with stars.
“Lucy,” I groaned after a while, “are you sure you didn’t kidnap me? Should I scream for help?”
She rolled her eyes.
“If I kidnapped you, I’d at least offer snacks.”
“That’s fair.”
Just when I was about to close my eyes, she pointed out the window.
“Look.”
And I did.
What I saw stole my breath.
A small town nestled between mountains, wrapped in golden lights.
Snowflakes drifting lazily.
Wooden cabins decorated with wreaths.
A giant Christmas tree glowing in the center.
Even the streets looked like they belonged in a snow globe.
“What is this place…?” I whispered.
Lucy smiled softly this time—no mischief, no chaos.
“Winterdale.”
I turned to her. “Never heard of it.”
“Exactly. It’s quiet, small, hidden… perfect for your peace.”
She nudged my shoulder. “And perfect for adventure.”
Adventure.
The word made my heart flutter with a mix of excitement and fear.
As we entered the town, I felt something strange…
a shiver that wasn’t from the cold.
Like the town was welcoming us—
or warning us.
And then, just as we parked near a cozy-looking inn…
I saw him.
A guy standing under a streetlamp, snow falling around him like in slow motion.
Tall.
Dark jacket.
Sharp features.
And eyes that locked straight onto mine—
And at that moment everything around me became blurred.
