send 🙈 for our muses to stay up waiting for santa
Christmas had been a wonderful time when Cora was a child, and then it slowly began to evaporate like sand between her fingers. Her mother was no longer a part of this life, taken by her own hand, and Cora's father didn't like celebrating it as much. Years went by and he began to repair that, diving into his work with Prometheus, being lenient and merciful and enjoying the holiday parties. Then, Cora's sister was cancelled, and once and for all, her father's joy stopped.
Now, as Cora had her own child, a young boy named Tomas, it was time to reinvigorate the spirit. It wasn't about religion at all; it was about the feeling, the way it made your soul burn with a sense of being at home, and it was exactly what she wanted Tomas to have.
He was barely tall enough to reach over the counter, but Cora let her adopted child help make cookies for dear Saint Nick. Tomas' father had died and the rest of the family perished in their own bakery's fire. Such a terrible waste.
Her hand combed through his soft, brown hair as his fingers wrapped around the oven door to pull it down. His excitement was too much, reaching inside to try to take a cookie, burning his fingers instead and giving a small whimper.
"Aw, Tomas," she cooed as she bent down to level with him, seeing the tears in his eyes before she reached out to stroke his cheek. "Let me see." Her hand was held out for him to place his in hers. He did so after a moment, after a tear rolled down, and she took a passing look at it before giving a kiss to it. "Now, now, Tomas. There's nothing to cry about. Why, think of it as fate giving you a small reminder of what you've missed," she offered to him with a smile. Truly, it was nothing in comparison to being burned alive, was it? "Now, let's get you some oven mitts to try again."
