❝ ‘course it’s heavier than plastic, it’s a goddamn tree. it’s made outta wood, for christ’s sake. but it ain’t that bad, y’can manage, ❞ rhys replies easily, unfazed by his sister’s rather vocal struggle with the tree. she’d always had a flair for the dramatics, and though he’d be a liar to say he’s not endeared to it, he has gotten used to it. when he needs to, it’s not hard to tune it out. ❝ oh, don’t act like you didn’t miss me, ❞ he adds as he finally tugs the blade through the last of the netting and frees the ( admittedly decent sized, rhys has to say, it looked a hell of a lot smaller out in the snow than it does in her apartment ) tree. ❝ besides, little bit of movin’ around on your day off ain’t gonna kill ya. what, were you gonna spend the whole day hangin’ out in bed? ❞
once the branches have settled, rhys kneels back down on the floor, rolling his shoulders back as he prepares to duck his head under the tree so he can try and tighten the base again. icy blues flicker up toward his sister before he can help it when her voice softens, surprised by the abrupt shift in tone. he shouldn’t be. not after the heaping pile of truth he’d just dumped on her in only a few simple words. to describe rhys as emotionally available in any capacity was laughable, but he’s sure there’s not a single soul on this earth that knows more of his secrets than his baby sister. maybe it was because he’d all but fucking raised her, or maybe it was the countless traumas they’d bonded through, but if there’s anyone who can get him to open up, it’s dylan. but there’s something in the way she’s looking at him through the parted pine needles that has rhys suddenly flustered about his decision to confess, and he uses it as an excuse to focus his attention on the task at hand, diving face-first back into the branches the moment she begins to question him further. he can answer her question ― maybe, maybe ― if she can’t watch him try and spit out the words.
❝ how do i feel? i don’t ― i mean, yes, to all a’ that, ❞ rhys admits as he pushes past sharp, bushy branches to reach the stand at the base of the trunk, struggling to keep the pine needles out of his mouth as he speaks. ❝ i can tell ya i’m fuckin’ terrified, for one. it’s been ― fuck, feels like it’s been forever since i’ve felt any kinda way about anybody, and here she comes, waltzin’ into my life all of a sudden and makin’ me feel like i’d be out here tryin’ to give her the whole damn world if she’d let me. ❞ hands blindly find the first steel screw and start tightening it before reaching for the next. ❝ and i don’t know what’s scarier ― wonderin’ if she actually will let me, or knowin’ how badly i want her to. and shit, dylan, i really do. ❞ rhys pauses, fingertips stilling briefly on cool metal as he tries to navigate his answer. his feelings. fuck. ❝ she just ― she’s got me grinnin’ like a goddamn fool every time she’s around, like i can’t even help it, and i find myself thinkin’ about her more often than i’m not. i’ve started callin’ her during my breaks at work just ‘cause hearin’ her laugh makes my day that little bit brighter, and i actually look forward to my days off now, ‘cause i know it means i’ll get to see her, and maybe even emma too. ❞ he’s almost finished with the stand now, and he makes a point to get around to his own point before he’s done. ❝ christ knows i ain’t an expert on love, but i feel like that’s only got me more convinced that must be what this is, because i never felt nothing like it before. ❞
rhys disentangles himself from the branches once he’s fully tightened the stand, pushing himself out from beneath the tree and straightening up on his knees to look up at it ( and at dylan ) before rising to his feet. head falls into a gentle tilt and brows twitch inquisitively, and fuck, okay, he does feel a little bit better now that he’s gotten that off his chest. lighter, even. ❝ why you askin’ me so much about it anyway? you ain’t goin’ to threaten her about it, are you? ❞ it’s mostly a joke, but rhys still eyes his baby sister as he waits for an answer.
“A tree I didn’t ask for!” Dylan defends her complaints, her unwillingness to follow his instructions perfectly. As lovely as the gesture was it meant work she did not sign up for. Perfectly happily with the plastic tree that Becky had put up. Even then all Dylan was allowed to do was pass the ornaments over, not trusted to make it all work right. Dylan’s huff sends her hair flying away from her face before falling back into place. “Do you know how often I get a full day to myself? It’s been weeks Rhys. Weeks. And you’ve ruined it. All over this stupid tree.” Dylan almost ends up eating a branch of said tree as she complains - she ends up dropping her complaints to spit out the pine leaves that hit her tongue. Dylan contemplates if she can get a refund on her brother, pretty sure the deal they sold her on him was a con.
Except Rhys was so much more than just a brother. Even as she complains about his purchase and interruption there’s nothing in her that would truly get rid of him, or even this moment. The way he’d thought of her felt unique to him, like he’d never let her be forgotten or left behind. So as he fiddles below she lets go off her annoyance and focuses in on him, thinking maybe this wasn’t just a tree delivery but an excuse to have somewhere to go, someone to talk to. Rhys were never quite straight forward as she was, still beating around the bush until Dylan pushed him into it. Ironic given her face had greenery in it right now.
Love. You’d think for Dylan love would be an easy subject, given how big her heart was. The thing was Dylan loved a lot of people, in a way that felt overwhelming and all consuming sometimes, but she had very little understanding of how to handle being in love with someone. Having no parents to learn it from she’d looked around her only to see couples last a few years before giving up. Or broken families that pretended it was okay if love came with pain. So she asks the question that sounds like it comes from a toddler: ‘what does love look like?’ How would she ever know if she was in it if she didn’t see it around her?
Terrified. It makes Dylan’s chest tighten to hear Rhys confirm the feeling. Dylan was always terrified of her heart, of what it meant when it gave over to someone else. Often it was the feeling she grew stuck on, sure it couldn’t possibly mean she was in love if all she could feel was such an intense fear. No Hallmark movie ever prepared her for fear. Dylan stays quiet as he talks, feeling a weight as she realises how different Rhys world was becoming. Ever since she was a little kid Dylan’s abandonment issues had run wild no matter how much her family tried to comfort them. Hearing Rhys want to give Cora the world left Dylan wondering where that left her. Selfish of her, she’s not unaware, but with Rhys starting to change his life in one direction she finds herself unsure how to follow him. If she even was allowed. Cora had a child already, a prebuilt family, and Rhys would pour all his love into it. This tree felt less like a Christmas surprise and more like a parting gift.
Longing. It’s clear Dylan isn’t the only one hoping for something, aching to not lose it. She wonders how long Rhys has felt this way - if it was something small that grew with time or if the moment the spark zapped him he had known that something more was coming. Dylan thinks of Dawson and how he’d crept up on her, how slowly addicting his company had become. There was more there, a version of life she had never pictured before. Terrifying yet something she longs for, even if she isn’t sure about all the details.
Happy. In that moment Dylan is so happy that there is a branch in her face and Rhys is way down on the ground. She can look up to hold in the tears that prick at the back of her eyes, suddenly hit with a true joy at hearing how Rhys was smiling again. Not just little ones but cheek aching smiles. It felt like a long time since she’d heard him be so happy about something. It’s grossly cheesy the way he talks about Cora but Dylan doesn’t tease him this time. This time she wants to make sure he doesn’t question how he’s acting, to be so happy that cheesy is the only possible outcome. He wasn’t alone any more. It was such a sad thought to have at their age but Dylan had always had that worry about how closed off he was. How he didn’t open up in fear of pain, which only meant he cut off possibilities of joy too. Cora and Emma had cracked him open and it seemed as though her brother was finally coming out of his shell.
As the tree no longer sways under her movements and Rhys is getting up Dylan takes his distraction as a moment to quickly wipe at her eyes. She’d not been as successful at keeping them dry, but he doesn’t need to see that. His question makes her feel young again, like all of a sudden she’s no longer an adult but a five year old asking ‘why’ and ‘how’ to everything as she learns the world. “I... I just thought...” the thought is stuck on her tongue as she looks anywhere but his face, trying to find a way to word why she wanted to know what love felt like. “I thought if you told me and it sounded like how I felt then I knew I wasn’t doing it all wrong... but I just feel more confused.” More like she was never going to get it right.
You aren’t going to threaten her are you? Dylan is taken back to a few days before where she sat across Cora promising to dispose of her body parts around the world so no one would be able to identify her right before Cora informed Dylan that she was in fact in love with Rhys. “Me? What? I’d never do such a thing!” She scoffs once, twice, a third time and by that point it becomes very obvious she’s already done the thing he’d hope she wouldn’t. “Look,” she holds her hand out to him as he stars at her “if you wanted me to not do that you should have told me to not do that before I did that.” Dylan pauses to smile, rather impressed with herself for getting through that sentence without stumbling over the words. Stepping away from her now real life Christmas tree Dylan moves to stare at the plastic one that now sucks in comparison. Funny how perspective changes a lot of things. “You should tell her.” It’s a present in its own that Dylan doesn’t spill Cora’s secret. It doesn’t feel right that Dylan is the one to admit Cora’s feelings, but she certainly can’t wait for Rhys to find courage on his own. Dylan wasn’t a great secret keeper - people needed to learn this already. Kenzie should put out a PSA or something. “Like soon,” she adds. “Communication is healthy, right?” She adds as a reasoning, trying to cover up how obvious she might be portraying. Just as she had with Cora, Dylan looks at her brother and in a soft voice says “it’s never a bad thing to hear you’re loved by someone.”
