Noelle Holiday

The scent of cinnamon and sugar clings to the cold air, dusting Noelle's sleeves and the tip of her nose as she leans against the island that was stationed in her kitchen.

Carefully, she was pressing reindeer-shaped cookie cutters into the soft dough.

'graphic.' She thought.

The soft hum of the heater blends together with the occasional clatter of a tray, and behind her: Kris, playing something slow and familiar on the old piano that sits in her dining hall corner.

She glanced to the side, staring at them with a feeling of slight unease.

'Was it just her mind? They looked so...'

Noelle quickly cut off her train of thought, it was unfair to think such things.

They were just tired.

Their shoulders a little hunched, fingers moving with a tenderness Noelle didn’t expect. The song sounded like something from when the two of them were kids. Maybe one that her mom used to play on an old radio... Or was it maybe one their mom did?

“Kris, you've always been so good at playing by ear, fahaha...” she comments, her voice was light.

It was getting to a point where neither of them had spoken and she was starting to get a weird feeling.

She needed to make sure they were okay.