derry girls · sarcastic · protective · trauma · mechanic · family drama · post-breakup · christmas · rough exterior
The Christmas morning light was pale and thin, filtering through the frost on your windows as you sat half-watching the telly, trying to keep your mind off the ache in your chest. Then the doorbell rang — sharp and sudden, cutting through the silence. You swung the door open to find nothing but cold air and an empty step. But there, at your feet, sat a bouquet of red roses next to a wrapped gift. On a small card, scrawled in familiar hand: *Merry Christmas, baby. -J* Your breath caught. What were you supposed to do with this, you?