The doors parted into the lobby. We crossed toward the exit, Santa and the carpenter.
Cold air rushed to meet us as the doors opened. December had sharpened—our breath clouding immediately, rising toward a sky thick with stars.
I stopped walking.
The Milky Way swept from horizon to horizon.
"I used to think I needed an audience to feel real," I said. "All those years chasing bigger stages and better reviews. Like I was only myself when someone was watching."
Ben moved to stand beside me. "And now?"
"Now I think maybe the opposite is true. Maybe you're most yourself when nobody's watching. When it's only you and the work and the person in front of you." I turned to look into his eyes. "When it's only you."
"Alex."
"Yeah?"
He reached up and gently tugged my ridiculous fake beard down below my chin.
Then he kissed me.
He tasted like sawdust, cold air, and the same steady care of his carvings. I reached out to grip his jacket, pulling him closer, and felt his heartbeat against my chest. Steady. Sure. The rhythm of a man who'd been waiting patiently for me to catch up.
When we broke apart, his eyes were bright. Not with tears. With recognition.
"Okay," I managed. "That was—"
"Yeah."
I laughed softly. "I came to this town expecting to fail. To prove everyone right about me. And instead—"
"Instead?"
"Instead, I found things worth staying for," I said. "The town. The people. A dragon with a heartbeat and a teenage girl who whisperedIt's warm." I took his hand. "You."
His breath caught—I heard it in the cold air between us.
"Come on," he said finally. "Let's get you out of that costume before you freeze. I'll make hot chocolate. The real kind."
"With marshmallows?"
"That's not a realistic question."
I let him lead me toward the truck. The Santa coat swished against my legs. The fake beard hung around my neck like the world's most absurd scarf. I probably looked ridiculous.
I didn't care.
Ben started the engine. I reached for the radio, finding a station playing quiet carols. The hospital shrank in the rearview mirror as we drove, the road unspooling ahead.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
"Hey, Ben?"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas."
The dashboard clock read 11:43. Not quite there.
