(The Day of Christmas)
December—season of warmth, of giving, of celebrating love and miracles.
Magic sparkles on trees, secrets hover in the air, and the world glows with hope.
Neva, a devoted Christmas romantic, has anticipated this day for weeks. The moment Rhett arrived, thankfully unharmed with her prayers answered, they plunged into preparations—shopping for ornaments, picking out a lush Yule tree together.
The most awaited day of the year is here.
The day of honouring the birth of the Saviour. The night—a Divine being began living alongside sinners in His human flesh.
The crack of dawn unravels the children the most innocent euphorica.
Happy smiles and giggles delights the homes—on being gifted such beautiful life.
Today, Neva's home radiates more comfort than usual too.
Sweet scents of chocolate and cookies waft through the air.
Soft fairy lights gleam across the walls, casting a warm golden hue. In the center of the drawing room stands a glorious Christmas tree, dressed in shimmering colors and tender memories.
Neva hums quietly as she flips pancakes on the stove, her heart full. The night before, she'd convinced Rhett to join her for mass at a nearby church. This evening, Emma and Zedd are coming over for a feast. Rhett has been cleaning and tidying up all morning.
Suddenly, he appears at the kitchen door—first his nose, then the rest of him, following the trail of delicious aroma. His eyes search for her.
"Angel," he says, approaching her.
"Hmm?" Neva responds, focused on the pancakes.
He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her gently into his chest.
"I have a present for you," he murmurs, tightening his hold.
She tilts her head slightly, smiling.
"Me too."
He smiles and kisses her lips briefly before resting his face in the crook of her neck.
"I'm not done, Rhett," she mutters, placing a fresh pancake onto the plate and reaching for another batter.
"Angel… marry me," Rhett says.
Her heart skips a beat, hands freezing mid-motion.
She blinks, then lets out a breathy laugh.
"Hah?" she teases. He's joking. "Sure."
But his voice deepens with sincerity. "I'm serious."
He reaches past her and turns off the stove.
Gently, he turns her to face him, eyes searching hers. "Will you be mine? All mine? And let me be the happiest man alive," he says, brushing a loose strand behind her ear.
He then places her hand over his chest, his heart loud and thrumming fast.
"Feel this," he breathes.
"This heart is not mine anymore. Nothing is mine anymore."
Their gazes lock.
She sees the tremble in his lashes, the depth of emotion he struggles to hide.
He leans in, softly kissing her lips, and when he pulls away, he whispers:
"I love you, Neva."
She stands still, her breath caught between words.
He continues, voice breaking into a chuckle. "I know I've always rushed things with you… but I've never been able to control myself when it comes to you."
"I know how much you value the sanctity of marriage. And I want that with you. I want to live something sacred, something secure. A bond we can grow in… together."
Neva doesn't know what to say anymore. She doesn't even know if she is in earth anymore.
Her heart races. Her cheeks burn red.
"I love you. More than love can be anymore—wilder, purer." He whispers.
"I want forever with you. Please… tell me you feel the same."
His voice fades, and silence envelops them.
"I'm scared. Say something, Neva," he pleads, voice barely above a whisper.
"I love you," she replies, stunned—honestly, breathlessly.
Rhett's face softens into a radiant smile.
He leans forward, their foreheads touching, and inhales deeply.
"You said it… for the first time."
Neva blushes harder.
A shiver runs down his spine.
She loves him.
"Wait here," he says, stepping away from her reluctantly.
He vanishes through the living room, only to return moments later—though to them, it feels like hours.
When he walks back in, she's still standing frozen, confused.
Then she gasps.
Rhett kneels before her, holding a small red velvet box in his palm.
He opens it.
Inside rests a stunning ring—diamond petals forming a delicate flower.
"Marry me, Neva."
She bites her lip.
All these feelings—new, overwhelming, unfamiliar.
And yet… he feels like home.
But doubts bloom. She's eighteen. It's only been two months.
Her mind wrestles with her heart. The moment is too much, too soon.
The light in her eyes dims just slightly, and Rhett's smile falters.
He looks down. His hands tremble.
Of course, she doesn't want him the way he wants her.
He swallows hard.
For it is him.
Him, who cannot think about living a moment without her anymore.
It had been less than two months since they started dating.
But he'd bought the ring after one week—because he was sure.
Because she is the only thing he'd ever been certain of.
"Rhett…" she whispers, kneeling down before him, gently lifting his chin to meet her eyes.
"I'm eighteen," she says softly.
"We've known each other barely two months."
He doesn't respond, afraid to speak.
She cups his face and meets his eyes.
"Isn't it enough?" he finally murmurs, voice trembling, teary eyes desperately looking at her.
Her heart aches.
"I'll marry you," she says, breathless, feverish, emotional—
"…when I turn nineteen."