The warm glow of the fire cast dancing shadows on the walls, and for a brief moment, the chaos of the evening had finally subsided.
My parents were cleaning up the remains of the Christmas feast in the kitchen, Lily had been tucked into bed after her sugar-fuelled antics, and Ciara and I had retreated to the quieter side of the sitting room.
The Christmas tree stood proudly once more, thanks to her magic, twinkling as though it hadn't been toppled mere hours ago.
Ciara sat beside me on the sofa, her fingers idly tracing patterns along my arm. I felt content, basking in the warmth of her presence. But something about the way her gaze lingered on the flames told me her mind was elsewhere.
"What's on your mind?" I asked softly, tilting my head to meet her eyes.
She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Nothing to worry about," she said, though her tone betrayed her.
I frowned. "Ciara, I know that look. What is it?"
