merry Christmas my friends I come bearing gifts (sappy sweet quick lil zoyalai modern holiday au)
"Niko-- ah,"
Nikolai yelped as Zoya half fell onto him, giggling, grasping at his arm to keep upright. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "Zoya?"
"Sorry," she whispered, laughing. "It's-- okay." He blinked, assessing the copious glitter in her hair and on her dark red dress, the glass in her hand, the slightly dazed look in her eyes. "Are you drunk?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Zoya said, then laughed again. "Maybe. Yes. I was with Genya, and Nina, and-- Oh, your eyes are so pretty. Fuck. What am I saying? Oh, where's my glass--"
Drunk. Definitely drunk. He hadn't touched any of Genya's Christmas party concoctions, considering he had to drive after this, but it appeared someone had. Nikolai plucked the drink from her hand to muted protest. "It's Christmas, Nik..."
"And you're going to wake up with a terrible hangover tomorrow and blame me to hell for it, dear."
"Won't blame you. I feel.. nice."
"You are," he agreed. "It's a little disturbing."
She ignored him, resting her head on his chest and picking at the fabric of his sweater. The holiday party chatter faded as music began to drift through the room, soft jazz chords under a soothing baritone voice.
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…
Zoya blinked up at him, sleepy eyes still a bright, vivid blue. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in loose, messy waves, her expression soft and unguarded. He loved her sharpness and her strength, and for that reason he loved this too, when the storm that was Zoya Nazyalensky came to a moment of rest. He twined his fingers through her hair, caught the upward curl of her lips with a kiss-- she sighed contentedly, her arms wrapping around his neck. He tasted chocolate and alcohol on her lips, laughed a little when she stepped on his feet to get a better angle--
"I must be dead," he told her seriously. "Or dreaming."
She pulled back to look into his eyes. "Hm?"
"This is too good to be real."
Zoya rolled her eyes, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Get used to it," she whispered, then laughed. Again. "Dance with me."
"Dance? To The Christmas Song?"
"Shut up and just sway a little."
He chuckled and obliged. They made for quite a sight, he could tell; Zoya's weight more on him than her own feet, but the world always faded around her. Little else mattered more than her head on his shoulder, her hand in his hand. Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't see the blatantly obvious video Tamar was taking from the side of the room. Maybe he'd ask for it later.
Although it's been said, many times, many ways...
"I love you," he said.
"I know. Me too, you know? I love you too."
He hid his smile in her hair. "Yes. Yeah, I know. Merry Christmas, Zoya."
She smiled, her eyes closed, gave his hand a small squeeze.
Merry Christmas, to you.
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