My mom likes to say that magic happens when you put things together for other people. That when we’d get ready to have friends or family over - cleaning the house, making food, setting out nice plates and glasses, gathering flowers, throwing open the windows - because we did it for other people to enjoy it, that made magic.
I know that my mom probably said that to make me stop grumbling when I had to help with all that stuff. But now I actually think that she’s right. Something does happen when you lovingly create a warm atmosphere with other people in your heart and mind. There’s magic in that ritual.
I see the way that people relax around each other in the light of the candles that my mom carefully selected to put out. When they gather around the table in the garden that she worked so hard to make beautiful for them. When they eat the food she cooked for them.
The joyful glow it all comes together to create. A natural human closeness blossoms out of the dreamy, nurturing environment.
I don’t think that people even know what to pin it down to. That easy, intimate feeling they get, the way they all seem to appreciate each other more. But my mom knows what caused it, and it always makes her smile.
This year we don’t have family visiting, but my mom made her magic, anyways. The house, in all its eclectic decoration, looks beautiful. Light pours in through the windows and refracts off of the snow, turning multicolored as it catches on all the glass vases, crystal beads, colorful bottles, and bunches of flowers. Luminous brightness in every room.
Curled up on the couch by the Christmas tree, lazy from the sumptuous breakfast that my mom made, I’m feeling absolutely at home. I can hear my mom having fun with my dad and some friends in the kitchen. Will has taken a liking to my dad, and is following him around, laughing at his terrible jokes. Kasey is in the kitchen, too, stretched out on the deep, soft rug in front of the fireplace.
And Aiden is here, of course. Nowhere would feel like home without him. I’m leaning back against his chest, and he’s slowly skimming one hand up and down my arm. The gentle scent of vetiver is mingling with the pine of the Christmas tree. Forest air, that’s what it tastes like.
I sigh happily, stretch out my legs, and tip my head to the side. Aiden takes the opportunity to nuzzle his face into the exposed curve of my neck, and I smile, reaching back to work my fingers into his hair.
We both startle and sit up as the living room door suddenly opens. My mom steps inside with two mugs in her hands, and Aunt Sarah is right behind her.
“Hot chocolate for my little lambs,” my mom announces cheerfully, crossing to us.
I have to suppress a laugh, hearing Aiden addressed this way. He’s easily big enough to take up the whole couch. If his knees weren’t bent, his feet would be hanging off the end.
I reach up to accept the mugs from my mom, who steps back, smiling down at us.
“Who would have thought, Sarah,” she says warmly, “That one day, our two boys-”
“Mom.” I sink down into the couch, my cheeks turning scarlet. “Can we not?”
“Oh, I think we have to,” Aunt Sarah chuckles.
I can’t see Aiden’s face, but I can tell from his voice that I’m not the only one whose cheeks are suddenly burning. “You really don’t have to, Auntie.”
“Oh, honey, we’re just happy for you," my mom jumps in.
Aunt Sarah reaches over me to touch an affectionate finger to Aiden’s face. “For both of you.”
“God’s doing,” my mom says, and Aunt Sarah nods right away.
“It is.”
“Okay,” I cut in, heat radiating off of my face. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, but don’t you two have, like - Parish council drama to discuss, or something?”
“No,” my mom says primly. “There’s no drama at church, my love. It’s God’s house.”
“Mary, that reminds me.” Aunt Sarah turns to my mom, arching a conspiratorial eyebrow. “Did I tell you that Ramona was just awful about Carol’s design for the cover of the new hymn books? I’m only glad that Carol didn’t hear her!”
“Oh, Ramona.” My mom clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Someone really needs to have a word with her. This attitude is not Godly.”
Aiden and I bite back our laughter as my mom and Aunt Sarah chatter their way towards the kitchen. I’m about to turn and catch Aiden’s eye, but my mom pokes her head back into the living room at the last minute.
“Looks like you two still have some gifts to open,” she says.
A silence falls after she shuts the door behind herself. Aiden and I both turn to look at the Christmas tree.
There are only two presents still wrapped. My gift to Aiden, and his gift to me. We didn’t discuss it, but somehow it was understood that we didn’t want to open these with other people around.
Aiden slowly sits up, sitting me up, too. I turn to face him. We both set our mugs aside.
Aiden reaches beneath the tree and picks up my present. Offers it to me, without a word.
I can tell by the way he’s kneading his palm that he’s nervous about how I’ll react. It’s the first indication I’ve had of that.
I tear the wrapping paper off, but save the tag, slip it into my pocket. Aiden nibbles his lip anxiously as I look down at the gift box in my hands.
I open it up, then pause, confused.
It’s my favorite flannel. The one that I’ve been looking for all week. I glance up at Aiden, who still has yet to say anything.
“What’s…?” I begin, then stop abruptly.
I understand all at once. My mind goes flying back to something that happened about a month ago.
It was one of those deeply intimate nights that Aiden and I spend together. Cozy in bed, bodies and souls both naked, our heads tipped together as we talk.
“Can I ask you something?” he’d murmured.
I was feeling safe and comfortable and open. “Anything, Callahan.”
Aiden nodded at my flannel, which was on his night table.
“Is there a reason you always wear those? I mean - I love that you do, and please don’t stop, it’s just - I’ve always kinda wondered-”
“Oh, it’s alright,” I interrupted, since it was clear that Aiden was worried he’d asked the wrong way. “There is a reason, actually. That flannel, my favorite one - it was my grandpa’s.”
Aiden blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Mhm.” I traced a fingertip along Aiden’s jaw. “He passed away when I was a kid, but he always used to wear them.”
Aiden had been smiling and playful, but by now he was listening to me closely, and very seriously.
“I don’t remember too much about my grandpa,” I continued, “But I remember that he had the same hair color as me and my mom. And I vividly remember that I - really stupidly, in this burst of dumb little-kid honesty - told him that the reason I was rewatching Treasure Planet so many times was because I had a crush on Jim Hawkins.”
“Oh, my god,” Aiden said, covering his mouth with his fingers.
“I know. I totally panicked after I let it slip. I hadn’t said anything like it out loud before. But my grandpa just said - sounds like you have a revolutionary spirit, kid. And then he bought me the DVD for my birthday.”
A small smile rose on Aiden’s face, but he kept quiet, waiting for me to keep going.
“So, um - after my grandpa passed away, my mom could tell that I was really sad about it, and she gave me his favorite flannel. I started wearing it all the time, to keep him close. When my mom saw that I was doing that, she gave me the rest of his collection, too.”
Aiden propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at me. “All of your flannels - they’re your grandpa’s?”
“No,” I sighed. “I wore through all of the ones that actually belonged to him, so I started buying new ones, to replace them. That one, my favorite one - it’s the only flannel of his that I have left.” I made a pouty face at Aiden. “It’s probably gonna wear out soon. The elbows are getting thin, and there’s a hole in the side that I’m sure is gonna get bigger. One of the buttons is already missing, too. I’m sad about it, honestly.”
Aiden had fallen silent, contemplating that.
Looking at my flannel now, I’m realizing that things are different about it.
“I - had someone fix it,” Aiden haltingly explains.
I stare down at the flannel, zeroing in on what’s been changed.
There’s a soft, new layer of lining on the inside. The missing button has been replaced. The hole in the side has been expertly repaired. All of the fraying, loose threads are either gone or fixed up.
It looks - new, almost, but still faded and softened by all my years of wearing it.
And nestled underneath it in the box is another flannel, in a deep, ocean blue color. It’s ridiculously soft beneath my fingers, and has the same kind of collar that my grandpa’s flannel does. There’s a note tucked into it, in Aiden’s handwriting.
Keane - Here’s a new one for the rotation, so your favorite doesn’t wear down so fast.
I stare down at the contents of the box, speechless. I know that Aiden is watching me, but I can hardly look up at him. My heart is full to bursting.
Just like he did with Kasey, Aiden found a way to give me more precious time with what I love.
I start to take the second flannel out of the box, then stop at an unexpected crinkling noise. I feel around in the pockets, and pull out a mini-sized bag of M&M’S.
“Did you - pre-stuff the flannel with pocket candy?” I stammer, and Aiden huffs out a quiet, nervous laugh.
“Um… yeah. Against my better judgment.”
I laugh, but it comes out sounding wobbly and thin.
“Aiden…” I breathe, overwhelmed. “This is - I can’t-”
I can’t find a single word to say, but I need to communicate the love that I’m feeling right now, so I lean forward and kiss him.
Aiden takes in a relieved, happy breath, and smiles against my mouth.
We press our foreheads together. I’m smiling so hard that my cheeks are starting to hurt. I put my palms to Aiden's face, and when I speak, I punctuate every word with a kiss.
“You - sweet - thoughtful - thing - I - fucking - love - you - a stupid amount-”
“Okay,” Aiden laughs, drawing back. He opens his mouth to say something, then stops, his head tipped to the side. “Wow, you - you sound… really...”
He trails off, then shakes his head, biting back a smile.
“My turn,” he says.
As soon as Aiden reaches down and grabs the gift I made for him, all the nerves come crashing back. I anxiously twist the ring around my finger. I kind of poured my heart out into that book, said things I'd be way too nervous to say to Aiden's face. I have no idea what he's going to think of it.
He gently unsticks the wrapping paper, then stares down at the book. His blue eyes flit back to my face, and a warm, affectionate smile turns up his lips.
“Aw, Jamie,” he says, ruffling my hair. “This is so sweet. I’m gonna have my own poetry collection, at this rate.”
He lets the book fall open, then pauses when he sees my handwriting woven around the printed words.
“Did you write me a note?” he asks, and I panic.
My hand darts out to quickly close the book. Aiden looks up at me, confused.
“Um - maybe you can read it later?” I ask, my cheeks on fire. “Like - when I’m not around?”
“Okay,” Aiden says, “But why-?”
My dad chooses this moment to join us in the living room, mercifully cutting that line of questioning short.
Aiden doesn’t bring it up again, and by the time we get back to his place - after a full, fun Christmas day - I’ve actually managed to forget about the gift.
The one I gave Aiden, that is. I’ll never forget the gift that he gave me.
~~~~
I stir slowly in Aiden’s bed, breathing in the vetiver that clings to his sheets. My eyes are closed, but sunlight must be dappling across my face. The glow is reaching me, even though I’m still halfway submerged in my dreams. I sleepily drag a hand over my jaw, and feel that I’ve got some stubble. I guess it’s been three nights in a row that I’ve slept at Aiden’s place.
It must be really early, based on the absolute hush in the room.
I reach automatically for Aiden, and come up with a handful of empty bedding. He’s - not there. Did he leave? I vaguely remember hearing the music of the malachite plant in movement, but I thought that I dreamt it.
I blink my eyes open, and my breath stops in my mouth.
Very slowly, I sit up in the bed, wondering if I’m still dreaming.
I’ve woken up in a world swimming with light. Sparkling fireflies drift in every direction, enough fireflies to make a ceiling, floating through gentle waves of loose, golden sunshine. Only it can’t be sunshine, because it’s pitch-black outside of the windows, still the middle of the night.
But here, in Aiden’s bedroom… it’s as if the very air is imbued with gold dust. Shimmering swirls of brightness spread out in countless paths before me, twine gently around me.
I’m underwater in an ocean of golden light.
“What…?” I press my hands over my mouth, spellbound. “Aiden?”
No answer. He’s definitely not in the room. I stumble out of bed and find my boxers, feeling around without looking, unable to tear my gaze away from the radiant glow surrounding me, enveloping me. The gravity feels relaxed, like I’m levitating just above the ground.
When I step out into the living room, I discover that the light show isn’t confined to the bedroom.
My Heliomancer is curled up on the couch, in his boxers, his head bent over a book. I can see even from here that he’s already on the last page.
His whole body is breathing out light.
I think I hear him sniffling a little.
“Aiden,” I say softly.
He stirs from his reverie, looks up, and sees me. He quickly swipes the back of his hand over his eyes.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. I can only stare at Aiden, even more enraptured with the light in his eyes than I am with the light in the room.
Wordlessly, he reaches for me.
I go to him, and sit down on his lap. Aiden sets the book aside, locks his arms around me, and buries his face into my neck.
“Jamie.” His deep voice is rough around the edges. “This… you…”
He burrows his face further into me, trying to hide his expression more than he already has. I smile to myself, tickled by the scratch of his beard.
“I wish that you could hear me,” Aiden says helplessly. “I can’t even - tell you how I…”
He stops and draws back, a realization dawning on his face. Slowly, he spreads his hand on my bare chest, and the connection shimmers open.
There are certain moments that stop time. This is one of them.
I let out a little gasp as Aiden’s emotions pour through the connection. It’s like every shining light in this place is living within me, lifting me. Pure, all-encompassing bliss warms me from head to toe, love bursting from my heart like a flock of birds bursting into the air.
Aiden gently breaks the connection, before I can get overwhelmed. It’s a long moment before I get my breath back.
It takes Aiden a moment to recover, too. I wasn’t even thinking about it, but while his feelings came through to me, mine went through to him.
He stares up at me, communicating so much with his blue eyes that I don’t need him to speak a single word out loud.
I already understand perfectly, and I lean in to kiss him. To say it back.
I love you, Companion Plant.
I don't say it with words, but Aiden gets the message.
The lights all around us somehow glow even more beautifully than they did before.
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