By the time December arrived properly, the city had changed its shape.
Lights appeared in windows. Paper stars taped to glass. Wreaths on doors. Even the air felt different, sharper and brighter, carrying the faint promise of something approaching.
Across the hall, Noah and Holly had moved in fully. Their door was rarely quiet now, laughter slipping through the frame, the low hum of music in the evenings. Elliot noticed it every time he stepped into the corridor. Not with irritation, but with a strange sense of… companionship. Life continuing, adjacent to his own.
Val loved it. She and Holly had become friends, talking and laughing every chance they got.
At the community centre, Val was deep into preparations, long afternoons were spent helping the children rehearse a Christmas performance. It wasn't polished. It wasn't meant to be. Some of the kids forgot steps. Some sang too loudly. One refused to wear the tinsel halo he'd been assigned. Yet Val was enjoying every bit of it.
She came home flushed and animated, her cheeks pink from the cold, bursting with stories.
"Did I tell you about Maya?" she asked one evening, toeing off her shoes by the door. "She finally stopped hiding behind the curtain and danced right in the middle of the stage."
Elliot smiled from the sofa. "You did tell me. Twice."
She grinned. "I'll probably tell you again."
"I don't mind."
She noticed then, as she often did lately, the way his attention never wavered when she spoke. How he didn't rush her, or skim past the parts that mattered to her. He listened the way some people breathe. Fully. Intentionally.
But there were other things she noticed too.
The lack of celebration.
No decorations appeared in the apartment. No lights. No tree. It was the middle of December outside in the streets and shops, but inside, Elliot's space remained unchanged.
She didn't mention it at first.
When she finally did, she did it carefully.
"I don't want to assume anything," she said one night as they ate dinner, "but I just wanted you to know… I'm okay with whatever you're comfortable with this month."
He looked up, immediately alert. "Comfortable with what?"
"Christmas," she said gently. "Or not Christmas. Either is fine."
She smiled as she said it, and it was genuine. She meant it. But Elliot saw the hesitation underneath. The way her fingers traced the edge of her plate. The way her gaze lingered just a moment too long on some blinking lights outside the window.
He swallowed.
"I haven't… celebrated," he said slowly. "Since my parents..."
"Oh Elliot, I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."
"I don't dislike it," he added. "I just… stopped."
She nodded. "That makes sense."
They left it there.
But he didn't stop thinking about it.
A few days later, Val left early for the community centre, bundled in her coat, humming under her breath. She kissed his cheek absently before heading out, leaving warmth in her wake.
The apartment settled into quiet.
Elliot sat at his desk, staring at his screen without really seeing it.
He thought of her laughter when she talked about the children. Of the way her eyes lit up at shop windows decorated with paper snowflakes. Of the careful way she had told him she was fine with whatever he chose.
He wanted to do something.
He opened his front door and knocked on the door across the hall.
Noah opened the door.
"Are you free?" he asked. "I want to do something."
"Yes," Noah said simply. "What do you need?"
"I need your help," Elliot said, then paused. "With something seasonal."
Noah's grin spread slowly. "Oh. This I have to hear."
They went out together, Elliot had placed the order online, they just needed to collect it. The shops were bright and crowded and chaotic, but Noah took the lead, steering them toward the pick up point.
Elliot had chosen a small plastic tree. Modest. Unassuming. He liked the simplicity of it, that it didn't pretend to be more than it was.
Then they bought a string of white lights. A handful of ornaments. Nothing elaborate.
Back at the apartment, they set the tree up on the floor by the window.
"It's… smaller than I expected," Noah said carefully.
"That was intentional," Elliot replied. "I checked the measurements. I didn't want to overdo it."
They decorated it together.
It was, objectively, not great.
The lights were uneven. The ornaments clustered strangely. The star on top leaned to one side like it was limping.
Elliot stepped back, assessing it.
"It looks fine," he said.
"It's… something," Noah agreed.
They were still standing there when the door across the hall opened and they heard Holly arrive.
Noah went and brought her into Elliot's living room.
She stopped short.
"Oh," she said. "Is that…?"
"Yes," Noah said quickly. "And before you say anything, this was a joint effort."
Holly studied the tree, head tilted. She smiled.
"It's a great start," she said diplomatically.
"It just needs a little… balance."
Elliot stiffened slightly.
Holly noticed immediately. "Only if you want," she added. "I can leave it exactly as it is."
He hesitated, then nodded. "You can… adjust it. If you'd like."
She moved carefully, narrating lightly as she went. Redistributing ornaments. Straightening the lights. Adjusting the star.
When she stepped back, the tree looked nicer. Prettier. Yet still simple. Still Elliot.
"There," she said. "Perfect."
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"You did this for Val," she said, not as a question.
"Yes."
"I bet she's going to cry," Holly said fondly.
That afternoon, when Val came home, she stopped as soon as she stepped into the apartment.
She stared.
Then her hands flew to her mouth.
"Oh," she breathed.
Elliot stood awkwardly beside the tree, heart pounding. "It's small," he said quickly. "And plastic. And..."
She crossed the room in three strides and wrapped her arms around him.
She was crying.
"Oh no," he said immediately, alarmed. "Did I make a mistake?"
She shook her head against his chest. "These are happy tears. You did good Elliot."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she laughed wetly. "I'm just… happy."
He held her, feeling the way her joy vibrated through her. The way it settled in his own chest, warm.
"I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't have what you love," he said quietly.
She pulled her head back to look up at him, her eyes shining.
"You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to."
She kissed him, then rested her forehead against his.
"You have no idea what this means to me," she said.
He was just glad she was happy.
Because for the first time in years, Christmas didn't feel like a loss.
It felt like something new.
Something shared.
And as Val smiled at the small, imperfect tree, Elliot realised something else.
Her happiness made him feel… whole.
And that was something he wanted to hold onto.