Side Story (2) - Chapter 4
Raxian pushed open the front door, the warmth of the house enveloping him as he stepped inside. He brushed the last bits of snow from his hoodie before dropping his shopping bags by the entrance. The scent of freshly baked cookies drifted through the air, mingling with the familiar notes of pine and cinnamon from the candles his mom always lit this time of year.
He glanced around the living room, taking in the transformation. His mom had gone all out, as she always did for Christmas—garlands lined the staircase railing, twinkling lights wrapped around the banister, and festive decorations covered every surface. Even the couch had new red-and-green cushions, arranged just so.
He couldn't help but smile, shaking his head. His mom had a way of turning the house into something straight out of a holiday movie. And as much as he liked to pretend he didn't care, Raxian knew it wouldn't feel like Christmas without her touch.
He toed off his shoes, already feeling the warmth start to seep into his cold fingers. His mom's voice floated in from the kitchen, cheerful as ever. "Raxian, you're back! Did you find everything you needed?"
"Yeah, got a few things," he called back, hiding the smallest hint of a smile. He took a moment to collect himself, listening to the soft hum of the holiday music she'd put on. It was nice—being home like this.
He wandered into the kitchen, finding his mom and dad working side by side. She was mixing a bowl of frosting, the countertop cluttered with trays of cookies in various shapes, while his dad handled a tray coming out of the oven, his sleeves rolled up. Raxian blinked in mild surprise—his dad wasn't exactly known for his culinary skills. But around Christmas, he always tried to pitch in, even if it meant burning a batch or two along the way.
"Hey, Dad. Didn't think I'd see you in here," Raxian said, leaning against the doorframe.
His dad glanced up with a good-natured smile, holding up a cookie cutter in the shape of a Christmas tree. "Your mom's got me on cookie duty this year. Figured I'd give it a shot, for old times' sake."
His mom chuckled, giving Raxian's dad a playful nudge. "He's getting better, I'll give him that. Only burned one tray so far."
Raxian couldn't help but laugh, the warmth in the kitchen easing the last of the chill from his bones. It felt like he'd stepped into a different world—one where the stresses of the game, the uncertainties of his friendships, all seemed to fade away.
"Oh, and don't forget—you promised to help me with the tree later," his mom reminded him, her tone light but insistent.
Raxian nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I remember. Just gonna take a quick shower first, warm up a bit."
He made his way upstairs, the warmth of the house following him all the way. As he turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower, the steam rising around him, he felt the tension of the day melt away. It was strange—how much these small moments meant, even if he never said it out loud.
After he dried off, he dug through his drawers until he found the one thing he knew would make his mom smile: a Christmas sweatshirt she'd bought for him a few years ago. It was a bit cheesy—bright red with a goofy reindeer face on the front—but he knew it would mean something to her. And for once, he didn't mind playing along.
Raxian pulled on the sweatshirt, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. He'd definitely gone from looking like his usual self to something a lot more festive.
He headed back downstairs, catching the delighted look on his mom's face as soon as she saw him. "Oh, you're wearing it! You look so cute, Raxian—hold on, I need a picture."
He rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the small grin that tugged at his lips as she grabbed her phone. "Mom, seriously?"
"Just one, come on," she insisted, snapping the photo before he had a chance to protest. His dad chuckled from his place by the oven, giving him a thumbs-up.
Raxian sighed dramatically but stood still for the picture, letting his mom have her moment. As much as he pretended to hate it, there was something nice about seeing her smile like that—about knowing he could make her happy with something as simple as a silly sweatshirt.
After the photo was taken, they all gathered in the living room to finish decorating the tree, the lights glowing softly as they worked together, placing ornaments and untangling strings of lights. The warmth of the fireplace crackled nearby, and for a while, Raxian let himself enjoy the moment, knowing that sometimes, these little things were the ones that mattered most.