John Walker x OC Doctor Anna Kessler
Warnings/Tags: 18+ | Mild language | Mutant abilities (electricity manipulation) | Slow-burn enemies-to-lovers | Team dynamics / found family | Humor & snark | Tension & Confrontation | Conflict & Banter | Family Bond | Grief & Loss (of siblings) Referenced | Holiday Angst | Implied Sexual Content |
Summary: Anna finally caves and brings her parents to The Watchtower, hoping everything will go smoothly. Little does she know that Christmas Eve would bring about something she’d never expected.
a/n: I’m really sorry that these two have completely gone off the radar. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve put out anything new for Anna and John, I’m trying to work on completing the arc that I envisioned months ago (hint: it’s Christmas themed because I started working on this last Christmas, yikes.) but I’m going to try to keep plugging away at this for the time being.
The kitchen still smelled faintly of cinnamon. Slowly being over powered by the delicious scent of roasted beef and mashed potatoes. The all too familiar comfort of her mothers cooking.
Anna leaned against the island, one oven mitt still on as she waited on the green beans to cook. A dish towel rested over her shoulder, absentmindedly twisted between her fingers while the warmth of the oven chased away the December chill that always seemed to linger.
This hadn’t quite been the way she’d imagined the week unfolding.
When her parents had arrived in New York City three days earlier, she’d made a point of keeping her two worlds separate.
They’d been staying at a hotel a few blocks from the Watchtower, and she’d spent every spare moment she could with them. Long lunches that somehow stretched into dinner. Wandering through Manhattan while fat snowflakes drifted lazily between skyscrapers. Ducking into little bookstores and coffee shops simply because they looked cozy enough to escape the cold for a while.
She’d even managed to steal an afternoon alone with her father. They’d spent hours hunting for the perfect Christmas gift for her mother before eventually settling into a quiet coffee shop, talking about everything and nothing at all. Work. Life. His latest woodworking project. The conversation had slipped so effortlessly into familiar territory that, for a little while, she’d almost forgotten how much she’d missed them.
Keeping them away from the Watchtower had simply seemed… easier. Practical. Less chance of her parents crossing paths with John. Less chance of her father deciding to say exactly what was on his mind.
Unfortunately, the rest of the team had other ideas.
“We’re excellent company!” Alexei had insisted, throwing both hands dramatically into the air. “Your parents must be so sad, hidden away in that hotel like they are witnesses in protection program.”
“We’re supposed to bake cookies,” Yelena had complained from the couch, sounding genuinely betrayed. “You promised.”
Anna had laughed despite herself. She knew exactly what she’d promised. The cliché Christmas experience. Homemade cookies. Christmas music. Far too much food. The kind of holiday she’d spent years describing whenever conversations drifted toward family traditions.
After enough relentless nagging and more than one dramatic sigh from Yelena, she’d finally given in. Her parents would come to the tower for Christmas Eve. Just dinner. Cookies. A few hours. Nothing complicated.
John, of course, had immediately objected. He’d called it a security risk. Civilians didn’t belong inside the Watchtower. The argument hadn’t lasted long. Everyone else had outvoted him almost immediately.
His solution had been simple enough. He’d stay out of sight. He’d left the tower earlier that day, she hadn’t seen him since the afternoon.
Elaine had slipped effortlessly into the kitchen beside her daughter, humming softly as she gathered dishes from the countertop to load the dishwasher. Bob hovered nearby, eagerly accepting whatever task Elaine handed him. Alexei wandered in and out every ten minutes, appearing to “inspect” the cooling cookies on the kitchen island. Ava had settled herself on one of the stools opposite the island, surprisingly content after a an afternoon of helping cut out gingerbread men and sugar cookies.
The rhythm of it all felt so… easy.
Across the room, Richard reclined in one of the chairs while Bucky occupied the couch nearby. The two of them had somehow fallen into conversation nearly an hour ago. Anna couldn’t hear most of it over the constant hum of the kitchen, but every so often one of them would laugh, and she’d catch herself smiling. It felt strange seeing her father chatting so comfortably with one of the most infamous men on the planet.
“I mean it,” Anna laughed, glancing toward her mother as she wiped her hands on the dishtowel. “If you think these are good, you should’ve seen the cake she made for my eighteenth birthday.”
Elaine waved a dismissive hand.
“Nothing? You would have thought I was getting married.” Anna scoffed. “I still dream about that cake.”
Bob looked genuinely intrigued.
Anna’s smile softened. For just a moment she allowed herself to simply stand there and take it all in. Her parents. Her friends. Christmas music drifting quietly from the speakers. The soft glow of Christmas lights wrapped around the tree. Snow falling beyond the towering windows. The Watchtower suddenly didn’t feel quite so cold.
She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself together these last few months until this moment. Watching the people she loved laugh together, watching two completely different parts of her life somehow blend into one room without collapsing under the weight of it, filled something inside her she hadn’t realized had been empty.
Maybe this really could work. Maybe she’d worried for nothing.
The timer on the green beens had gone off finally. Anna hadn’t quite been paying attention, wrapped up in easing the pot over the strainer in the sink, thats when she heard it.
The soft ding of the elevator echoed through the common room, catching her off guard. The distraction was enough to make her grip slip. The inside of her forearm caught too close to the billowing steam as she drained the boiling water from the pot. The steam burning her wrist.
“Shit.” she hissed under her breath.
She quickly set the pot on the counter before turning to run her arm under the sink in the cold water and holding the burn beneath the steady stream. The relief was immediate, though the angry patch of red was already beginning to spread across her skin.
“Spark, you okay?” her mother asked, looking up from the dishwasher..
“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine.” She answered automatically.
Truthfully, she’d already forgotten about the burn. Her attention had drifted toward the movement at the elevator. The doors slid open. Standing there, looking just as surprised as she felt, was John. He’d clearly expected an empty common room. Instead he’d walked into Christmas.
He still wore his coat and boots, a navy colored knit cap pulled snug over his head, tiny flecks of melting snow dusting his shoulders. The blue in his eyes shining impossibly bright. A few stubborn blond strands had escaped beneath the edge of the hat, damp from the weather, refusing to stay tucked away. For all the tension that settled across his expression the instant he took in the room, there was something… softer about him like this. Less like the perpetually guarded soldier she’d spent the last three months arguing with.
Just… John. That thought caught her off guard almost as much as his arrival had. Before she could make sense of it…
“Walker!” Alexei’s booming voice filled the room. “Just in time!”
John looked like he’d considered turning right back around. Instead, Alexei crossed the distance in three long strides, throwing an arm around his shoulders and steering him farther inside before he had the chance to protest.
Alexei paid absolutely no attention.
“Too late! You are here now.”
As they moved farther into the room, John’s gaze swept across the kitchen, landing on Anna, on the hand pressed against her forearm. His brow pulled together almost imperceptibly. The irritation she’d expected to find on his face gave way to something quieter. Concern. It was gone again almost as quickly as it appeared, hidden beneath the familiar guarded look he wore so well. If she hadn’t been watching him, she might have missed it entirely.
“Well, look who finally turned up.” Elaine’s voice carried easily over the chatter in the room.
She crossed the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel as Alexei finally wandered off again, helping himself to yet another cookie from the cooling rack.
“I… uh,” John pulled the knit cap from his head, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you’d be gone by now. I didn’t mean to intrude. I should’ve texted.”
“Nonsense.” Elaine smiled as though she’d known him for years. “It’s good you finally made it.” She stopped in front of him, extending her hand. “I’m Elaine.”
John froze. Not because he meant to be rude. More because he genuinely didn’t seem to know what the appropriate response was. His eyes flicked toward Anna.
There it was again. That familiar look. As though somehow this entire situation had become her fault.
Anna answered him with the smallest shrug.
She hadn’t exactly expected her mother to practically be ready to adopt him within the first thirty seconds either.
“Good to meet you, Ma’am.” John said at last, taking her hand with a polite shake.
“You too.” Elaine beamed. “Why don’t you come on in? You look like you could use a nice warm cup of hot cocoa.” She tipped her head thoughtfully. “Are you a gingerbread fan, John?”
Anna couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
“Mom,” she murmured, unable to hide the affection in her voice despite her embarrassment. “You need to stop. If he wants something, he can get it himself. You don’t have to mother him.”
Elaine tilted her head, looking almost offended by the suggestion.
“I’m fine, Mrs. Kessler,” John said quickly, almost as though he were trying to rescue both he and Anna from the conversation. “Really. Thank you.”
“Dinner will be served any minute, you must be starving.” Elaine continued without missing a beat.
Elaine finally turned to find Anna standing there with the look. The one that had quietly followed her daughter from adolescence into adulthood. The look that said, Please stop before you embarrass me any further.
After another second, Elaine lifted both hands in surrender.
Anna smiled despite herself. She knew it wouldn’t last. Elaine Kessler’s love language had always been acts of service. She fed people. She fussed over them. She made sure they left with leftovers whether they wanted them or not. It was simply how she loved.
John looked back toward Anna with that same old expression. Half annoyed. Half exasperated. Like he’d already decided this evening was going to test every ounce of his patience.
The smile faded from Anna’s face. Because, all at once, it occurred to her… Her father.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Richard straighten in his chair, his conversation with Bucky falling away as he stood. Her stomach sank. She turned toward him, willing him to somehow understand without a single word being spoken.
This is exactly what she was trying to avoid.
“Dad.” she pleaded quietly.
Richard didn’t even look at her. He simply lifted one hand in a calm, absent gesture that somehow managed to say, I’ve got this.
Anna knew that gesture. It rarely ended well. Beside her, Yelena leaned in just enough to bump her elbow against Anna’s arm.
“This is going to be good,” she murmured under her breath.
“I hate that you’re excited.” Anna sighed.
“I’ve been waiting for this.”
By the time Anna looked back, her father had already crossed the room. He stopped directly in front of John.
“Mister Walker.” Richard said, his expression calm but unreadable as he held out a hand to introduce himself. “Richard Kessler.”
Anna could hardly bear it. She knew her father well enough to recognize exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t trying to be rude. He was absolutely trying to make an impression.
John regarded the offered hand for the briefest moment before taking it.
“Nice to meet you, sir.” His voice remained flat. Professional. Respectful.
Neither man seemed particularly interested in being the first to look away. The whole thing was almost unbearable to watch.
“My daughter’s told us a lot about you.” Her dad said low.
Anna was the one freezing now, because that was absolutely the last thing she needed.
She watched the exchange unfold from across the room, barely remembering the sting still lingering across her forearm. Her gaze bounced between the two men, her father standing tall with his hand outstretched, John looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else.
For a second, John’s expression faltered. Not much. Just enough that she caught it before that familiar guarded look settled back over his face.
Despite herself, the corner of her mouth twitched. The whole situation was absurd. Her father was almost certainly giving John the firmest, most intimidating handshake he could manage, as though that alone might establish some sort of paternal authority over a man who’d spent years throwing himself into combat.
Poor Dad. If only he knew.
Fortunately, before anyone had the chance to say anything else, the sharp beeping of the oven timer echoed through the kitchen.
Elaine glanced toward the oven.
“Oh! That’ll be the roast.” Her voice cut neatly through the tension, warm and cheerful as though she hadn’t noticed any of it. “Everyone start gathering around.”
She looked over at Anna with an easy smile.
“Would you help me set the table, honey?”
Anna let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
She crossed toward the cupboards, reaching automatically for the stack of dinner plates.
“Well…” Yelena sighed dramatically from her perch against the island. “That was a letdown.”
Anna paused halfway through pulling a plate free before looking over at her.
“You’re kidding me, Lena…” she said, shaking her head with a laugh. “That was the best case scenario.”
She balanced the plates against her hip.
Yelena only shrugged, entirely unapologetic.
“What can I say?” she replied. “I was hoping for some holiday drama.”
“There is still plenty of time,” Ava observed without even looking up from where she was carefully arranging cookies onto a serving platter. Her tone was as dry as ever. “We still have to make it through dinner.”
Anna groaned, letting her forehead fall briefly against the cupboard door before closing it.
A ripple of laughter moved through the room, soft and easy, blending with the clink of dishes, the scrape of chairs against hardwood, and the faint Christmas music drifting from somewhere in the common room.
For one brief, fragile moment…
While everyone else was distracted carrying dishes to the table and finding places to sit, John quietly angled himself toward the hallway.
If he left now… Maybe no one would notice.
Maybe he could salvage what was left of the evening by disappearing before anyone tried to drag him into whatever painfully wholesome Christmas dinner this was turning into.
He’d almost made it to the corridor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky’s voice stopped him cold.
John closed his eyes for the briefest second before letting out a slow breath and turning around.
“I don’t need to be here for this,” he muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It’s better if I stay out of the way.”
Bucky regarded him for a long moment, arms folded loosely across his chest.
“Better for who?” he asked honestly.
“The way I see it…” Bucky continued, his voice calm, almost conversational, “those folks have been awful generous coming here and treating us like family.”
He glanced toward the dining room where Elaine was laughing at something Alexei had said while Richard helped Bob carry serving dishes to the table.
“They’ve treated you kindly too.” His eyes settled back on John. “Even though you’ve been an absolute prick to their daughter.”
John let out an incredulous huff, dropping his gaze toward the floor as he shook his head.
“You trying to guilt trip me, Buck?”
Bucky barked out a quiet laugh.
“I would’ve thought that was obvious.” The corner of his mouth pulled into a crooked smirk. He started toward the dining room before pausing just long enough to look back over his shoulder. “You can’t be bitter about being alone when you’re the one running away.”
Bucky didn’t wait for an answer. He simply disappeared back into the warmth and noise of the dining room, leaving John standing alone at the quiet entrance to the hallway, staring after him.
“Fuck.” John groaned to himself. He knew Bucky was right. He hated that.
so instead of slinking off toward his room, he toed of his boots still cold from the snow and took off his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch.
Worst case scenario, he could always leave, he reminded himself.
Besides, he could use the distraction. The last thing he needed to do was be alone in his room dwelling on what he was missing out on back home.
The dining room gradually filled in no particular order, everyone finding their seats whenever they happened to wander over from whatever task they’d been helping with. Chairs scraped softly against the floor as conversations overlapped, someone doubling back for a forgotten napkin while another reached across the table to straighten a plate that didn’t really need straightening.
Elaine carried the roast to the center of the table, the savory aroma immediately joining the lingering scent of cookies that still hung comfortably throughout the common room. Bowls of mashed potatoes, vegetables, homemade rolls and gravy soon followed, passed from hand to hand until every inch of the table seemed occupied. Steam curled from the dishes, carrying the warm scent of butter and roasted herbs through the room.
It wasn’t perfect. But somehow, it felt like Christmas.
Anna found herself settling into the chair beside her father as her mother fussed over the placement of serving spoons one final time before finally allowing herself to sit.
“Mom,” Anna laughed. “You know it’s okay if the gravy spoon isn’t perfectly straight.”
“It absolutely is not.” Elaine replied matter of factly, nudging it another inch anyway before giving a satisfied nod.
Alexei leaned forward with a dramatic sigh, resting one hand over his heart.
“I have waited long enough already. If I must wait any longer, I may simply perish.”
“You’ve been stealing food all afternoon.” Ava pointed out without looking up from her plate as she reached for the rolls.
“I was sampling.” He insisted.
“You sampled six cookies.”
“They needed quality control.” He deadpanned.
“They were all the same sugar cookies.” Yelena rolled her eyes.
“And they all deserved individual attention.” Alexei said with unwavering conviction.
A small wave of laughter circled the table, light and effortless. Even John let out the faintest exhale through his nose from where he sat several seats away, though it disappeared almost as quickly as it had come.
Anna noticed. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t much, barely the hint of a smile.
She wished she could stop noticing.
Conversation drifted easily after that. No one person dominated it for long. Stories simply found their way around the table the same way dishes did, each memory giving way to another as naturally as someone asking for the butter.
Bucky had just finished another bite of roast when he paused, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with his napkin before his attention settled on one of the platters piled with gingerbread cookies that still sat cooling nearby.
“My Ma used to make gingerbread every Christmas.”
The table quieted naturally. Not awkwardly. Just enough for everyone to listen.
“Did she decorate them?” Elaine smiled warmly.
“It was a lot different back then.” Bucky chuckled softly. “No fancy decorations or frosting, but she spent hours on ’em.”
He shook his head to himself, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Not really. Though one year I bit the heads off every one before my sister could get to them. The way she cried...” he gave a soft smirk. “Pa would give me a few licks for mischief.”
“You were horrible brother.” Yelena decided.
“In my defense, I was eleven.”
Richard laughed into his cup. The quiet clinking of forks against plates continued around the table as everyone helped themselves to another bite.
“I was Santa Claus once.” Alexei straightened proudly in his chair.
Yelena didn’t even look up.
“I most certainly was.” He insisted. “I was festive. I gave you that Barbie with the sparkly dress.”
“You were…” Yelena paused, searching her memory before her eyes widened. “Oooh.”
Ava snorted into her water.
“See? She remembers.” Alexei pointed triumphantly.
“I remember Melina threatening to throw you out the window because you wouldn’t stop with the jingle bells.”
“I was creating atmosphere.”
“The only thing you were creating was a headache.” she insisted, lifting her wine before taking another sip.
Another round of laughter rippled through the room. For just a second, Anna caught Yelena smiling into her glass before she quickly hid it behind another sip. The kind of smile that only escaped when she forgot anyone was watching. It was small. But real.
Ava quietly speared another carrot with her fork.
“I still get a Christmas card from Scott Lang every year.” She said it so casually it took everyone else a second to process.
The table collectively paused.
Ava shrugged as though it were perfectly ordinary.
“Every December.” She nodded.
“Ant-Man?” Anna asked. “What does he say?”
“The man just genuinely sends me well wishes and corny Christmas jokes.”
Alexei barked out a laugh.
“He even draws little ants around the border,” she said, the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth impossible to hide now.
Richard rubbed a hand across his stubble, trying unsuccessfully to hide his grin as another ripple of laughter worked its way around the table.
Bob had been smiling quietly throughout most of dinner, listening more than speaking. Every now and then his eyes wandered around the table, lingering on the easy laughter passing back and forth as though he were quietly taking it all in.
“What about you, sweetheart?” she asked kindly. “Any favorite Christmas memories?”
“Uh, Mom.” Anna tried to distract the questioning. Her mother had meant well without knowing anything about his past.
Bob hesitated. He looked down at his plate for a moment, absentmindedly nudging a patch of potato with his fork before answering.
“There was this one year I got sent to stay with my Aunt and Uncle. They were actually pretty cool.” He smiled, giving a gentle nod. “Got to play video games and have sleepovers in my cousin’s room. They even got me some comic books for Christmas.”
His smile lingered another second before turning bittersweet.
“It was all very… normal. It was nice.”
Elaine reached across the table, wordlessly and without hesitation, resting her hand gently over his for just a second. Bob looked down at her hand before giving the smallest nod. The warmth that settled over the table after that felt different. Quieter. Comfortable. Like everyone had unconsciously relaxed another inch. After another few moments of conversation, Bob looked farther down the table.
“What about you, Walker?”
John looked up from his plate like a deer in headlights.
“What about me?” he asked roughly.
“You got a Christmas story?”
John stared down at the meat resting on his fork for a long second before setting it back onto his plate. His jaw shifted once before he finally gave a small shake of his head.
“No.” John leaned back slightly in his chair. “I got nothin’.”
Nobody pressed him. The conversation simply rolled forward again. Anna found herself glancing at him anyway and as if he could already sense it, he looked up straight into her eyes.
It felt heavy, that look. Not angry. Not annoyed. Just… Lost somewhere else entirely. She looked away first. A few minutes later, Bob glanced toward her.
“Hmm?” Anna blinked, pulled back from her thoughts.
“You’ve gotta have a few good ones,” he insisted.
Several faces turned toward her. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. There were dozens she could have told. But every Christmas she could remember seemed to begin or end with Daniel. The happy ones belonged to him. The difficult ones belonged to the memory of him.
She wasn’t sure she wanted either of those tonight. She looked to her right, catching the way her parents watched her now. They already knew every story. Knew which ones still made her laugh. Knew which ones still hurt. As if they wanted to hear them just as much as they worried about what remembering might cost all three of them.
She thought for a moment, then a small smile crossed her face instead.
“None that I can share right now.” She reached for her glass. “But…”
She looked slowly around the table.
Finally… Her eyes landed on John. Only for a second.
“It has been… an interesting year. I don’t think any of us expected to end up here.”
“Correction!” Alexei raised a finger. “I always expected greatness. I don’t know about the rest of you.”
Another ripple of laughter circled the table. Anna shook her head fondly.
“My point is…” She let her gaze drift around the room again. “We’re all a little… unconventional in our own ways.”
“You can say dysfunctional.” Bucky offered.
“That too.” She smiled, lightly tracing the rim of her glass with her thumb. “But somewhere along the way…” Her voice softened. “…this place started feeling more like home.”
The words settled over the table. Simple and honest. No one rushed to fill the silence.
“I’m really glad we found each other.” She lifted her glass. “To family…” then she laughed. “Even if someone does keep drinking my oat milk.”
That earned another round of laughter as glasses were lifted around the table. All of them…
Except John. Which, in fairness, she’d never expected him to.
The laughter gradually faded, replaced by a quiet that lingered just a little longer than before.
A subtle unease had begun settling across the table, almost imperceptible at first.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me with that sappy shit.” John’s voice cut cleanly through the lingering warmth of the room as he stared daggers from across the table. “You’re so full of it.”
Richard pushed his seat back, the legs of the chair scraping sharply across the hardwood before he dropped his fork onto his plate with a sharp clatter. His shoulders squared instinctively.
“You better watch yourself, Walker.” His tone was calm, but firm enough that the entire room seemed to go still around it.
Anna felt every pair of eyes shift between the two men. The laughter from only moments before felt impossibly far away now. Without hesitation, she reached over, laying a steady hand against her father’s forearm. She gave it the gentlest squeeze.
“It’s okay, Dad,” she assured him quietly. “I’m a big girl.” She looked back toward John without wavering. “If John has something he needs to get off his chest, I can take it.”
Richard reluctantly leaned back into his chair, trusting his day. Though the look he gave John could have cut through steel.
“John…” Bucky started, leaning forward as though hoping he could stop whatever was about to happen before it went any further.
“You had to come in here with your perfect little family,” John said, his words sharp enough to wound. “Couldn’t spend one holiday without Mommy and Daddy.”
“What the hell, man?” Bob exclaimed, looking at him in disbelief.
Anna didn’t say anything.
“You have no idea what the rest of us have lost…” His frustration only seemed to grow, as though hearing the words out loud somehow justified them in his mind. He swept a hand toward the rest of the table. “Look around. Nobody else at this table has this and you’re just flaunting it.”
His fork hit the plate with another loud clatter.
“Walker,” Yelena said, her voice lower now as she leaned into the table. “That’s enough.”
“You’re just a spoiled brat who doesn’t seem to get that the infirmary is the only place you belong.”
No one seemed quite sure what to say. But Anna… she felt a surprising sense of calm settle over her. Because now, she could finally give herself permission to be honest.
He didn’t say anymore. He just kept his eyes fixed on her and clenched his fist.
“I know you’re hurting right now because you don’t get to see your son, John.” Her voice was softer than he deserved, steady despite the sting of every word he’d thrown at her. “I truly am sorry for that.”
“But taking your anger out on me isn’t going to make it better.” She gave the smallest shake of her head. “Because you know the one you’re actually angry with is yourself.”
For the first time since he’d opened his mouth… John didn’t have an answer. His jaw tightened. The muscles in his hand flexed as his fist stayed tight.
The truth had landed. Whether he wanted it to or not.
“But if you think I brought my parents here to rub that in your face, then you’re dead wrong.”
John’s expression shifted slightly, but Anna didn’t give him a chance to interrupt.
“I didn’t even want them to come here.” She scoffed softly, the hurt finally beginning to show beneath her calm. “I wanted to keep them separate from all this because of you.”
She hesitated. Because there were things that she still hadn’t said out loud. Not like this. Not to everyone. She knew the memory was still a raw wound for her parents. One that never really stopped hurting, no matter how many years passed.
“I make such a point every year to go home for holidays because eight years ago…” Her voice caught for only the briefest second before she steadied it. “Two days before Christmas, I got a call from my brother’s best friend and I had to be the one to tell my parents that their only son was killed in action.”
Elaine immediately lowered her head, taking a slow, unsteady breath as Richard reached over and wrapped an arm around her. His hand rested against her shoulder, grounding both of them in the weight of the memory.
Anna kept her eyes on John.
“We don’t stay together because we’re some perfect family.” Her voice stayed steady, even though she could feel the tension filling every corner of the room. “We’re together because it’s the only way we know how to survive what’s left.”
John stared at her. The anger that had carried him this far began to falter. Not because he wanted it to. Because there was nothing left for him to fight against.
“I thought, out of everybody sitting at this table, you would have been the one to understand that.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “But I guess I was wrong.”
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the faint movement of someone shifting in their chair. Elaine quietly let out a small sniffle. Bucky looked at John with an expression that was somewhere between disbelief and disappointment. Bob seemed completely lost for words. Yelena remained silent, her expression unreadable. Even Alexei had no joke to offer.
John realized too late what his words had done. He opened his mouth to respond. Nothing came out. He looked at Anna. Then at Elaine and Richard. He couldn’t hold any of their eyes. Slowly, he pushed his chair back. The scrape echoed through the dining room as he stood. No apology or excuse came. He simply turned and walked away.
Anna watched him disappear down the hallway before letting out one quiet, exhausted scoff.
Of course he was running.
What had she really expected?
The uncertain silence was more than enough. None of them knew exactly what to say.
After dinner, the team insisted on cleaning up, as if it was the only thing they could offer to make up for what had happened.
Anna had taken that opportunity to walk her parents out. She apologized more times than she could count. She’d never wanted to bring Daniel up. It was a painful subject for all of them, one she knew her parents carried every day. But she also knew it needed to be said.
The night had ended far lower than she’d ever hoped it would, but Elaine simply put on her bravest face, pulled her daughter into a tight hug, and whispered…
“Everything is going to be all right, Spark.”
Anna closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself lean into the comfort of her mother’s arms.
She really hoped it would be.
She had finally settled into bed, quietly lying on her side, facing the window. Outside, the world looked like a snow globe. The glow of the city illuminated the snowflakes falling softly from the sky, each one catching the light for only a moment before disappearing into the darkness below.
It should have felt peaceful. Instead, her mind kept drifting back to dinner.
She tried not to think about what had happened. Knew she shouldn’t let it take hold. Everything John had said had come from his own resentment, his own hurt. She knew that. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her parents’ faces.
That was the part that stayed with her.
She had just wanted to give them one good Christmas. One where they didn’t have to focus on the hurt that never truly left. One where they could laugh and make new memories without feeling like they were replacing the ones they lost.
John had just walked away.
Hadn’t said a single word.
She let out a quiet sigh, turning her attention back toward the window. Dreading what new issues tomorrow would bring.
A brief thought flickered through her mind.
Maybe it was time to move on.
She hated the thought of that. She didn’t want to leave. Despite everything, every argument and every frustrating moment, she had started to feel like this place was becoming home. But maybe leaving was the only way to stop fighting the same battles over and over again.
A soft knock at her door startled her from her thoughts. Her heart immediately jumped. She glanced toward the clock.
The gentleness of the knock made her hesitate. It was probably just Bob checking to see if she was okay. That seemed like something he would do.
She sat up and grabbed the oversized hoodie from the nearby chair, pulling it over the tank top and sleep shorts she had been wearing. Only once it was on did she realize how much it swallowed her whole, hanging loosely around her frame and making it look like she was wearing nothing but the hoodie.
She padded quietly across the room and opened it gently. Who she saw standing on the other side, she hadn’t been prepared for. Standing in the hallway in a simple hoodie and sweatpants, his hair messy from sleep, was John Walker.
For a moment, all she could do was stare. Her mind immediately went back to the last time this man had shown up at her door in the middle of the night.
Yelling. Furious. Looking at her like she was the enemy.
This was… Not that. He looked different.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asked softly.
She just stared at him for a moment. Her only response was a small shake of her head. She watched him carefully.
There was an unease in the way he held himself. His shoulders were tense. His hands seemed unsure of what to do. Almost like he wasn’t sure he belonged standing there.
“I… I couldn’t sleep.” He swallowed. “Not after what you said.”
“You were right about me and I’m…” The words seemed to catch somewhere before he forced them out. “I’m sorry, Anna.”
She took in a deep breath. Almost like she needed to ground herself in the reality of what was standing in front of her.
“You’re… apologizing?” Her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced around the hallway suspiciously. “Am I dreaming?”
That finally broke through the seriousness on his face. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I know. Shocking.” He shook his head slightly. “But I mean it.”
She studied him. The tiredness in his eyes. The uncertainty. The way he looked almost like he was bracing himself for her to slam the door in his face.
She kept waiting for the catch. For the excuse. For the part where he turned it back around on her. But it never came.
“Do you want to come in?” The words left her mouth before she had really thought about them.
“Uh… sure.” The question had clearly caught him off guard.
She stepped back, holding the door open and gesturing for him to come inside. He hesitated for only a second before stepping past her.
She shut the door behind them. And immediately regretted it. Because suddenly she remembered exactly what her room looked like.
A basket of clean laundry sat at the foot of her bed, waiting to be folded. A stack of books and loose papers were scattered across her desk. Things she had promised herself she would take care of “later.” Except later had never come. And now here she was, standing in her room in the middle of the night with Mister Neat & Tidy himself.
“If I had been expecting company,” she started to say as she tried her best to pick up a few things, moving a stack of papers that really didn’t need moving and straightening things that were already perfectly fine, “I would have…”
“I’ve just been busy.” She knew it was an excuse. But hell… He was already here.
She abandoned her panicked attempt to make things presentable, letting out a quiet breath before taking a seat on the bed.
“You can sit if you like,” she said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Or just stand there and be awkward.”
He seemed like he didn’t quite know how to answer that. For a moment, he looked genuinely torn, like he wanted to accept the offer but also wasn’t entirely sure if he was allowed to.
He sat on the edge of the bed, only about a foot away from her. Though his posture remained just as stiff and tense as ever. Shoulders tight. Hands clasped together. Like some part of him was still waiting for the floor to drop out beneath him.
She didn’t speak first. Mostly because she was waiting to see what he would say. The man was so closed off. This was the first time he had actually met her halfway. She wasn’t going to take that away from him.
“I never should have said those things.” His voice was quiet. He didn’t meet her eyes, instead focusing out the window at the skyline beyond the glass as he rubbed his hands together. “You didn’t deserve that.”
She just watched him. Genuinely surprised to hear those words.
“I’ve been…” He paused, searching his thoughts like he was trying to make sure he didn’t leave anything out. “An asshole to you.”
She huffed a laugh. Not loud. Not enough to break the moment. Just enough to bring his focus back to her. She had shifted farther back on the bed, settling more comfortably into the space.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, not wanting to derail whatever this was. “It’s just surprising, is all.” A small smile crossed her face. “What brought this about? A Christmas miracle?”
He looked down at his hands in his lap before looking back at her.
“Because you were right earlier.” His voice was firmer now. “I should have been the one to understand.” He paused. “I just didn’t want to see it.”
She turned her attention toward the window. Outside, thick flakes were still falling heavily from the sky, drifting slowly through the city lights.
“But I see it now.” He shifted slightly on the bed to face her, bringing her attention back to him. “We’ve both lost…”
His voice trailed off. Like he was still trying to find the courage to say the words out loud. But she knew. She knew exactly what he was trying to say.
Before she could think about it too much, he continued.
“Back at dinner, when everyone was talking about Christmas memories, I said I didn’t have one.” He shook his head gently. “But that was a lie.”
He went quiet for a moment. Not because he had nothing to say. Because saying it meant letting her see something he had spent years trying to hide.
She gently placed her hand over his. A small act of reassurance. Except considering what had happened at that table only hours before… It wasn’t small at all.
His eyes immediately dropped to where their hands connected. There was something almost disbelieving in his expression. Like he couldn’t understand how she could still be gentle with him after everything he had said.
“I was just a kid. Only about twelve.” His voice softened. “My mom was sick and my dad…” He paused like he was carefully navigating around the parts he wasn’t ready to say. “He wasn’t really paying much attention to the holiday. That wasn’t really his thing.”
She squeezed his hand gently. She knew so little about him.Only what his file contained.
Father, location unknown.
Younger sister, still residing in Custer’s Grove.
A neat little summary of a life that had left its mark on the man sitting in front of her. A few lines of information that somehow failed to explain everything she was seeing now. The insecurity. The anger. The walls.
The man who had tried so desperately to convince everyone, including himself, that he had it all together.
“Mike was almost eighteen. Had a job bagging groceries not far from where we lived.” A faint smile tugged at John’s mouth. “He was gone a lot then. Late nights after school when my dad was at work. Weekends when he should have been out with his friends…” He shook his head slightly.“Just doing dumb teenage boy shit.”
“I didn’t get it, not back then.” His eyes dropped to where her hand was wrapped around his, almost like the sight of it grounded him. “When Christmas came, Mom was laid up in bed and Dad… He was nowhere to be found.”
His thumb moved slightly against her hand, absentmindedly tracing the edge of her fingers.
“But Michael…” A small smile touched his face. “He was up at the crack of dawn making scrambled eggs and bacon. Just waiting for Kate and I.”
There was a small spark in his eyes at the memory. A moment of happiness that had somehow survived everything that came after.
“There were gifts under the tree and breakfast on the table and everything was good because of him.” His smile softened. “He’d saved everything he had just to make it happen.”
That warmed her heart. Because she understood that kind of love. The kind that didn’t need to announce itself. The kind that just showed up.
“He loved you guys,” she murmured.
“Yeah, he did.” A quiet breath left him. “I miss him a lot.”
His voice shook slightly on the last word. She felt that. The heaviness of it. The particular kind of pain that came from missing someone who had been more than family. Someone who had been a constant. Someone you never imagined having to live without.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The room stayed quiet around them. The snow continued falling outside the window, soft and endless. The city lights reflected against the glass, painting faint shadows across the room.
She could still feel the warmth of his hand beneath hers.
“Sounds a lot like Daniel,” she finally said. Her voice was softer now. “I didn’t want to tell mine either.”
“I hate to say it, but… I don’t talk about him a lot with my parents anymore.” There was guilt in admitting it. “It feels wrong, like I’m forgetting him,” She swallowed. “But for them… it’s still really raw.”
John’s expression softened.
“I want to hear it…” he assured her. “If you want to talk about him.”
She looked back at him. She took a slow breath before continuing.
“It’s not my best Christmas memory, but… it’s definitely one that effected me the most,” she took in a slow breath. “When my mutation started to manifest, it was close to Christmas.” A faint smile crossed her face. “I remember him being so attentive. Like he’d been waiting for it.”
“I mean, he was still a typical big brother. Poking fun whenever he could. Harassing me over this boy I had a crush on.”
“Naturally.” His response came easily. A small hint of humor. Because he knew. He knew all too well the responsibility of an older brother to a younger sister.
The teasing. Annoying her just because he could. Pretending not to care while caring more than anyone.
“He knew what it was like, though, to go through a change like that.” Her smile faded slightly. “But when I started having nightmares…” She hesitated. “He took it upon himself to sleep on my bedroom floor just to make me feel safe.”
Her thumb brushed gently over his hand. More seeking reassurance than giving it.
“But on Christmas Eve, it had gotten so intense that I sparked in my sleep.” Her voice lowered. “I woke up to the smell of smoke and fire spreading around my bedroom.”
John’s eyes widened slightly. Not just because of the danger. Because he was finally understanding what Daniel had done. What he had protected her from.
She looked toward the window.
“But Daniel was there.” Her voice softened. “He held on to me tight and, in the blink of an eye, he got me out. Pulled our parents out of bed and called 911.”
“Next thing we knew, we were all standing on the front lawn watching my room go up in flames.” The memory sat between them for a moment. “I was just grateful he had been there.”
A small, sad smile crossed her face.
“By New Year’s, my parents had broken down and enrolled us at Xavier’s.”
“Bet he didn’t let you out of his sight there.” John gave a faint smirk.
Neither of them spoke for a short while after that. The room was quiet. The warmth of her hand around his. The snow continuing to fall outside. The faint, low hum of electricity in the walls that only she could feel.
Two people sitting with memories they had spent years carrying alone.
“I’m so sorry.” He finally spoke.
“You’ve already said that.”
“I know.” He paused, taking a breath. “It just doesn’t feel like I could say it enough.”
She finally looked over at him. His posture had loosened slightly. The tension that usually surrounded him had faded, replaced by something quieter. Something closer to peace.
“If need someone to talk about him sometime…” His voice softened. “You can talk to me.”
He looked down at their hands but didn’t pull away. Instead, he slowly turned his palm into hers and gently threaded his fingers through hers. The gesture was simple, but it meant more than either of them probably wanted to admit.
“Who are you and what have you done with John Walker?” She looked at him in amazement.
For the first time that night, his smile reached his eyes.
“I guess I just needed to get over myself, huh?”
A quiet hum of amusement left him. It was strange seeing him like this. Softer. Not guarded or bracing for a fight. Like the walls he’d kept around himself for so long didn’t stand quite as tall for a little while.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look so… at ease.
His eyes drifted toward the clock beside her bed. It was well after midnight now.
“I should leave you to it,” he finally said. “We should both try to get some sleep.”
“Mmm, yeah.” She glanced toward the clock as well. “Been a long day.”
An understatement. But somehow, saying it out loud made them both smile slightly. He finally let go of her hand, the warmth of his fingers leaving hers as he stood from the side of the bed.
She followed him to the door, watching as he reached for the handle. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then he paused. His hand rested against the door handle as he turned back toward her.
“Thank you.” His blue eyes were softer than she had ever seen them.
“For… hearing me out.” He hesitated. “For giving me a chance.”
Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
Like he genuinely didn’t expect her to.
Before she could overthink it, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle. Her face pressed against his shoulder, and she felt the briefest hesitation from him. Only for a moment.Because the next second, his arms wrapped around her.
Strong. Steady. Holding her there.
His beard brushed against her forehead as he gently rested his chin against her. There was no rush to it. And that was the strangest part. Not that he was holding her. But that she felt so much comfort in it.
“Merry Christmas, John.” She murmured.
He was warm. The fabric of his hoodie brushed softly against her skin. The faint scent of laundry soap and his beard oil lingered as she breathed him in. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
For someone who always looked like he was one second away from exploding… He felt steady. Safe. And that pulled at something inside her. Something she had never allowed herself to acknowledge. Something that had been sitting just beneath the surface for longer than she wanted to admit.
She pulled back only enough to look up at him. He still hadn’t let go. They were still standing there, close enough that neither of them had to pretend they weren’t aware of it.
Just for a moment, they dropped to his mouth before returning to his gaze. It was subtle. But undeniable and he noticed.
He closed the distance before either of them could think better of it. His lips pressed to hers in a slow, tentative kiss. Not demanding. Not taking. Almost like he was asking. Like he needed to know this was really what she wanted.
She answered him by kissing him back. Firm. Certain. Her arms wrapping around his neck.
It wasn’t just relief. It wasn’t just forgiveness. It was something that had been there all along. Something they had both spent months trying not to acknowledge.
The kiss deepened and for the first time, neither of them could pretend this was only about the night they’d just survived. This was desire. This was something that had been building beneath every argument, every glance, every moment they stood too close and refused to admit.
He broke the kiss only for a moment, both of them catching their breath, hearts racing. But she only responded by pulling him closer and kissing him again. The next thing she knew, his arms had slipped lower and he lifted her easily. A surprised laugh escaped her as her lips parted from his for only a moment.
“John…” His name came out breathless. But there was no hesitation in it.
He carried her the few steps back toward the bed, lowering her carefully as he followed. He kissed her once more before pulling back to look at her. Both of them were caught somewhere between disbelief and adrenaline. Neither of them had expected this.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet against her skin. He pressed a gentle kiss along her throat before lifting his gaze back to hers.
She nodded gently, her fingers threading into his hair.
That was all it took. His lips found hers again.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew tomorrow would come with questions. They would have to unpack everything.
The grief they had shared.
What this meant. Whatever this was.
But tomorrow wasn’t here yet. Tonight, there was only the warmth between them. The steady weight of him holding her close. The quiet rhythm of his breathing. And the impossible realization that after everything that had happened between them… This was where they’d ended up.
She hadn’t expected any of it. But for the first time in weeks… She simply let herself stop thinking altogether.
The brightness of the morning streamed into the room, finally pulling her from sleep. Her eyes cracked open slowly. For a moment, she didn’t move. She simply lay there, still wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, letting herself wake up. Outside, the snow had stopped. The sky was a dull gray, the kind of winter morning that made the whole world feel quieter.
A groan escaped her as she stretched. Immediately, she felt it. The pleasant kind of soreness that could only follow a night with a super soldier. A small smirk tugged at her lips as she rolled onto her side. But the expression disappeared almost instantly. Because the space beside her was empty.
Something dropped in her chest. Not heartbreak exactly. Something more like disappointment. Because maybe she should have been a little more realistic. She should have expected him to leave. But some part of her had actually believed that after everything that happened the night before… He would still be there.
She let out a heavy sigh and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Almost more confused than she had been before. Because now she had to wrap her head around the fact that John Walker, the man who had intentionally made her life difficult for the last few months, was the same man who had worshipped her body for most of the night.
Like she was something he needed like air.
She covered her face with her hands. Then, after a moment, grabbed the pillow and pulled it over her head with a low groan.
The truth was undeniable.
She had slept with him and somehow, the worst part was… She didn’t regret it. Not even a little bit. She just… had no idea what she was supposed to do now. It would have been one thing if she had woken up tangled in the sheets with his arms around her. If she had opened her eyes and found him still there.
But waking up to an empty bed? That brought an entirely different set of questions.
Or had he simply not wanted the entire team finding him stumbling out of her room on Christmas morning and immediately demanding an explanation?
She couldn’t blame him for that second one. She threw the pillow aside. Either way, it didn’t matter. It had happened and now she would have to face him. She would have to walk into that common room and pretend nothing had changed. Pretend the only important thing that happened between them was the apology.
As if he hadn’t spent the night making her feel desired in a way no man ever had..
As if his touch hadn’t made her heart race.
She pushed the blankets away, the cold air of the room immediately kissing her bare skin. The ache in her muscles as she sat up was enough to make it all come rushing back.
The taste of him. Breath and heat. The firmness of his grip on her body leaving marks on her skin.
Because apparently she had lost the ability to keep a normal expression. Her poker face was going to be a problem. A very big problem.
She was going to be so obvious. She needed a shower first. Hopefully, that would give her enough time to practice.
To figure out how to act like nothing had happened.
To convince herself that this was normal. That John Walker was still just John Walker. Not the man who had walked into her room and somehow managed to make her come undone over and over. The man who had made her fall apart completely… and somehow put her back together over the course of one night.
The common room was already buzzing when she finally made her way down the hallway. Her hair was still damp from the shower, pulled back loosely with a clip, and she had spent the entire walk there reminding herself to act normal.
Whatever that meant anymore.
“Morning, Sunshine.” Alexei’s booming voice immediately pulled her attention toward the couch, where he was already sprawled comfortably across the cushions, wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas like that was a perfectly acceptable Christmas morning outfit. “Merry Christmas!”
And then she saw him. She froze slightly. John was already in the kitchen. Standing at the sink, rinsing off his breakfast dish like nothing in the world had changed. Like he hadn’t been in her room only hours before.
Like he hadn’t kissed her and…
Absolutely not. Not in front of everyone.
“You okay?” Bucky’s voice pulled her back.
Of course he noticed. He always noticed. Though, thankfully, he seemed to assume her hesitation was for an entirely different reason.
“I can kick his ass out of the kitchen for you.” Ava’s voice was completely serious from where she sat. “He deserves it after last night.”
“Um… no.” She cleared her throat. “We’re grown ups. It’s perfectly fine.”
She didn’t stay long enough for anyone to ask questions. Because if she did, she was absolutely certain her face would tell more than she meant it to. Her feet moved again, carrying her through the living room and into the kitchen. Straight toward the coffee machine. Because apparently coffee was the only thing standing between her and complete emotional collapse.
She planted herself in front of it, focusing very carefully on the simple task in front of her.
She could feel him nearby. Painfully aware of every movement he made. The quiet sound of him setting something down. The shift of his footsteps. The fact that he was close enough that she could feel his presence without even looking.
She reached into the cupboard above her and grabbed her mug, gently placing it on the counter.
“Could you grab me one too?” His voice was low. Casual. Like they hadn’t just completely changed the nature of their relationship overnight.
She glanced at him. Only for a moment. There was a devilish grin on his face and his eyes… His eyes were focused completely on her with a dark intensity that was far too much for this time of morning.
She looked away quickly before it stirred something in her like it had the night before.
She grabbed another mug and set it beside hers. He stood close. Closer than he probably should have in front of everyone else.
“You weren’t there when I woke up.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she poured her coffee as slowly as humanly possible. “Didn’t expect you to disappear this in the night.”
She didn’t look at him. But she caught the small nod from the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was firm as he looked down at the cups briefly. “I just thought it was probably for the best that we keep this between us.”
Because this was… She didn’t even know what this was. Complicated, didn’t even begin to cover it.
She placed her hand flat against the counter between them as she poured his coffee after hers. She glanced at him briefly and there it was again. That same look from last night. The one that had followed every quiet word. Every touch. Every moment where he had looked at her like she was something he wanted.
She immediately looked back down at his mug.
His hand moved carefully beside hers. Slowly. Giving her every opportunity to pull away. Instead, his pinky brushed deliberately against hers. A tiny touch, barely anything. But somehow, it was everything.
“Can I see you later?” His voice was quiet enough that it belonged only to them, low and familiar.
She set the coffee pot back into the machine.
Later? For what exactly? To talk? To figure out what this was? Or for round two of whatever last night had been?
If she was honest with herself, it didn’t matter. She wanted to see him. She wanted… more.
“Yeah.” She nodded gently. “When I get back from seeing my parents.”
His pinky brushed over hers more fully.
Before she could say anything else, he picked up his coffee and stepped away, grazing her ass with one hand as he walked by. He headed toward the elevator. She turned, slightly at the contact, watching him go. Their eyes met one more time, just for a second, then the elevator doors closed, carrying him away.
She stared down at her mug. Trying desperately to reset her face. Because apparently all it wanted to do was smile and completely ruin her.
Eventually, she carried her coffee back into the living room and dropped onto the couch beside Bob, pulling a soft, deep green fleece blanket over her legs.
She was being as casual as she could. Completely normal. Definitely not sitting there trying to figure out how John Walker had become the person making her smile on Christmas morning.
“I can’t believe you’re talking to him after last night.” Yelena’s voice cut through the room.
Anna looked up. Yelena sat on the floor nearby, watching her carefully. She had a feeling this conversation was about to be much harder than the one with John.
“Everything okay?” Bucky’s voice pulled her attention back. “You two seem…” He paused, trying to find the right word. “Surprisingly okay this morning.”
She knew it would come up eventually. She just hadn’t been prepared for how quickly.
“Yeah. Everything is fine.” She assured them.
The problem was, the entire room immediately looked at her like she had just said something completely unbelievable. Like they were all waiting for the punchline.
“Really,” she added, clearing her throat. “We… talked last night.” She searched for the right words. Something honest. But not too honest. “He apologized. We talked things through, and… it’s water under the bridge.”
“He… apologized?” The surprise on her face was predictable.
“Just like that?” Yelena looked genuinely confused. “And you forgave him?” She shook her head slightly. “He’s lucky you didn’t light him up like a Christmas tree.”
Anna took a sip of her coffee, hiding the small smile that immediately threatened to appear. She listened as they continued discussing how out of line John had been.
Alexei, naturally, suggested several completely unnecessary revenge plans on her behalf, all of which involved far too much enthusiasm and absolutely no realistic chance of helping.
She assured him repeatedly that revenge was no longer necessary.
Eventually, the conversation moved on. Yelena and Ava disappeared into the kitchen. Bucky apparently had some mission data that couldn’t possibly wait until after the holiday, which Anna suspected was just Bucky’s way of avoiding whatever chaos was happening around him.
Alexei, meanwhile, had returned to his natural state. Passed out on the couch and snoring at a volume that was honestly concerning.
Bob, however, remained exactly where he was. Still wrapped up in the book he hadn’t put down all morning.
“So… you guys talked, huh?” He said it casually. Without even looking up.
Anna turned her head slowly.
Bob nodded once. Then he closed the book, placing it face down on his lap.
“Didn’t sound like talking to me.”
Her expression dropped immediately.
“Bob.” Her hands tightened slightly around her mug.
“We share a wall, remember?” He remained completely calm and the slightest bit amused.“They’re thinner than you think.” He caught the shock on her face and answered before she could even ask. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything.”
He picked his book back up, flipping it open again as if nothing unusual had happened.
Anna stared at him blankly.
“You…” It took her a second. Then it clicked. “That’s what you meant?”
“That man is as predictable as they get.” Bob nodded, settling back comfortably into the couch.
She scoffed softly at the thought. Bob had seen this coming? Really? Bob? And somehow she hadn’t?
She leaned back into the couch, taking another sip of her coffee as it slowly cooled. She knew she could trust Bob to keep her confidence. He was always good about that. Quiet. Kind. Never making her vulnerability into a spectacle. Now she just had to figure out the rest of the day. Which was going to be its own challenge.
She had to meet her parents at the hotel. She had to act normal and she had to somehow survive Christmas Day with her father, who was practically a bloodhound when it came to noticing anything even slightly off with her.
His opinion of John Walker had already been firmly established before they ever met. After last night? There was no chance that opinion had improved.
She let out a quiet sigh.
Besides… It wasn’t like she was marrying the guy. It was one night of passion. Maybe two, depending on how things went later… if he didn’t completely blow it. That was all. Nothing to get worked up over. She wasn’t suddenly going to start signing all her medical reports;
The thought made her cringe. Then laugh quietly to herself.
Absolutely not. That was ridiculous.
That was what she kept telling herself.
@witchygagirl , @qvicksilversass , @reedlater
