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ʙᴇᴠ (mollyringwald) wrote in snapthread,

beverly & richie
When Beverly's mother had actually been alive, Christmas wasn't so bad - she remembered dressing in their boots, coats, and scarves, walking through the chilly, biting air to church where they'd bring flowers. Flashlights in one hand, those fragrant blooms in the other, just talking and enjoying that time together as they walked toward the steeple that poked up above frosted roofs. Then after, it was shit rolling downhill with just her father - more like Christmas sadness as opposed to Christmas cheer. Nothing merry about it - in fact, she'd prefer to forget about every attempt at the holidays if it involved seeing her father's face in her mind.

This was a lot better though. She was still fairly new to the town yet she liked it here - true to what others said at the beginning, nothing was trying to kill her. Thanks to Nyx, she had spools of fabric, enough to last her til rapture - so she could hunker down in the back of Van Dyne's and make clothes to her hearts content. Plus, she had her friends here - some of them, anyway. That was important.

Speaking of friends, or adopted brothers, she wore a mistletoe headband and snagged Richie by the arm - his shoulder, really, then up like a daisy and pop, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Why are you so tall?" she groaned, because it wasn't like she actually reached. "Nice job on that mac and cheese, by the way."

Okay, so it tasted like soap, but he did his best. No one was going to insult her best friend's attempt at being culinary.