38

All I Want For Christmas - Mariah Carey

The cold hit me the second I stepped outside. December had a way of biting you in the face, even when the sun was shining. Kamala stood by my car in a big charcoal peacoat and a soft gray scarf looped around her neck. She had her arms crossed, the wind lifting the ends of her curls. Her nose was pink from the cold. Still beautiful, though. Always.

"You're late," she said when I reached her.

"You love it," I grinned, holding the door open for her.

She rolled her eyes, but she got in. The soft scent of her perfume settled into the car—something warm and musky, like amber and cedarwood and quiet comfort. We were headed to my apartment for a night in. No drama. No stress. Just us.

We barely talked on the way over. Not because anything was wrong—just that calm, settled quiet you get when nothing needs fixing. Her hand rested on my thigh the whole ride.

⸻

The first thing Kamala did when we got in was drop her things by the couch and grab one of my hoodies off the coat rack. She slipped it over her turtleneck, rolled her eyes again when she saw me watching her.

"What?" she said, fluffing the hood behind her.

"You look real domestic right now," I said.

"You want me barefoot too?"

"Shut up," I laughed. "Come pick a movie."

She did, obviously. Kamala never let me choose unless I was sick or had cried within the past 24 hours. Tonight, she picked Love Jones and made us cocoa from scratch with oat milk and nutmeg—because "it's richer this way, baby." We curled up on the couch, her legs over mine, her fingers running over my kneecap under the blanket. I leaned into her body, soaking in her warmth like sunlight through a windowpane.

Halfway through the movie, I whispered, "You ever been in love like that before?"

She didn't answer right away. Her fingers paused. Then she said quietly, "No. Not like this."

I looked up at her. Her jaw was tight, but her eyes were soft.

"Kamala?"

She looked at me fully now, her lips parted like she was still deciding whether or not to speak.

"This scares me," she said. "Being with you like this. Loving you like this."

I swallowed. "Why?"

She breathed in deep, as if the words needed clearing room in her chest before coming out.

"Because I've always had control," she said. "In politics. In relationships. Even in grief. But you—Mariah—you make me feel everything. And when we were going through all that mess before...I shut down. I always do when I'm scared."

Her voice cracked on that last word, and something in me cracked too.

"I was scared I wasn't enough for you," she admitted. "That you'd find someone younger, freer, less complicated. And when I saw you pull away, even a little, I panicked."

I reached up and touched her face, letting her rest into my palm.

"You are everything I want," I said. "Even when I was being stupid, it was never about wanting someone else."

Her eyes closed for a second. Then she kissed my palm, her lashes wet.

The snow started softly outside, little flakes that danced in the yellow streetlight glow. I watched it settle on the windowsill and said, "It's snowing, baby."

She turned her head to look. "That's a sign."

"A sign of what?"

"That we made it through the worst of it."

⸻

Later that week, I brought her home with me. We didn't make a big announcement or anything—my parents already knew, and they were warming up to her more and more. My dad still called her "Professor Harris," and my mom still asked too many questions. But they let her in. She helped my mom mash yuca in the kitchen, and my dad cornered her about politics over coquito.

Rome barked at her at first, then cuddled into her side on the couch after dinner. Traitor.

In my room later that night, we sat on the floor with mugs of peppermint tea, our backs against the bed.

She smiled at me like I was something worth keeping. "You ever think about what comes next?"

"After graduation?"

"Yeah."

"I think about moving out of D.C. sometimes. But then I think about staying."

She raised a brow. "Because of me?"

I didn't answer right away. I just leaned over and kissed her shoulder.

"Yeah," I whispered. "Because of you."__________

I was serious, I'm literally about to make my Christmas list rn... 😂