People all around wore smiles, freshly opened scarves, sweaters with the tags still on, and loving eyes as the plane flew towards England. They were all with loved ones, or at last on their way to see relatives, and therefore not one of them was unhappy. Even the bustling and yelling of those around her could not drown out her memories.

His face as she turned away from him; the coldness of his hand in hers.

The tears falling down her cheeks, the sharpness of the wind as it blew against her wet cheeks.

i don't when we fell apart
the love that we had was like a work of art
i used to see heaven in your eyes
now angels are falling from your skies
things we said were so wrong
and i haven't held you for long
my foolish pride turns me inside
why did we tell all those lies
you can reach for the phone
you don't have to be alone

She entered the empty, decoration-less flat and set her bag at her feet before closing the door behind her. Unwrapping her tightly wound scarf, and pulling off her constricting gloves, she deposited them on the phone table; her fingers lingered above the telephone, tingling with want. After a moment, she fisted her hand and turned towards the kitchen, so she could shed some light on the situation.

Flicking the lights on, she went towards the fridge to see if there was anything left over from the last time she'd been here; four weeks it had been since she'd last set foot in this place, and it was already becoming a foreign land to her.

She pulled the lone beer out, popped the cap and downed half of it in one gulp. It was more for something to do, than actual thirst or a want of alcohol.

Although, at this moment, drowning her miseries in a bottle seemed a nice celebration of a holiday that had never brought her any joy in the past.

Bitterly, she walked into the living room, flicking lights on as she went; she hated darkness, even as it clouded over her mind, body and spirit. She figured a little translucent light would make the situation less dreary that it was. She sat on the worn sofa, set her beer on the coffee table, and struggled to pull her aching feet free of the confining boots. It had been snowing when she'd left New York, and the streets had been more an ocean of slush than anything else.

Fleetingly, she wondered if he had made it home okay in the storm. She brushed a piece of browning-cranberry colored hair from her eyes, and with it brushed the memory to the back of her brain.

The television illuminated the still darkened room; she settled back against the couch, feeling the strain of her emotions weighing in the back of her neck, and back. She let out a low moan of pain and set her feet atop the coffee table. The only thing she could find to watch that was not holiday-orientated was an old cartoon.

She wasn't interested in this minor distraction, for it didn't allow her any sort of escape from reality. She stood up, flicked off the television and went to make a fire in the fireplace. As the embers lit, her eyes traveled to the window; she could see London being blanketed in a thick layer of snow. She knew that tomorrow she'd be snowed in, and the thought didn't lift her spirits any, as she had barely any wood left, and definitely no food. If worse came to worse, she figured she'd walk across the street to the small store there to pick up a bag of crisps.

She sat cross-legged, Indian style, in front of the fire and let out a long breath. His image ran through her mind; a picture of him laughing at her jokes, a flash of him sneaking a kiss, a serious shot of his profile as he studied his lines.

Her heart clenched and she felt more tears well up in her eyes. It had been his decision, she told herself; he had wanted to spend Christmas in New York with his friends, rather than travel back to London with her. He'd asked her to stay, and she had declined.

She didn't know why, but even though London brought terrible Christmas memories to mind, it also brought a feeling she didn't get anywhere else. A feeling of comfort, and safety.

There was one other place she felt safe, and that was in his arms, but his arms no longer reached out to hold her, and she had to keep telling herself that it was for the best.

If he wasn't going to bother, she thought as her eyes drifted closed and she laid down on the soft carpet, then she wasn't going to either.

outside the wind it seems so cold
your heart is frozen like the snow
and there's no one home
to keep you safe and warm
your eyes are red because you've cried
you fell asleep by the fireside
but there's one thing you should know
on this christmas baby
you don't have to be alone

The next morning, Christmas Eve day, the shrill ringing of the phone woke her from a deep sleep. She stood, stretched, and went into the hallway to answer it.

Before she even had a chance to say anything, his voice came on the line, "Aida."

Clutching the phone, she slid to the ground; her knees had suddenly gone rather weak. "This is she," she choked out, and then coughed.

"Aida, it's me."

"I know it's you," she replied harshly, biting her bottom lip. She tucked her hair behind her ears and listened to his steady breathing. His voice sounded the same as it always had, perhaps a bit deeper, and filled with sadness.

After a moment, his words came out in a rush, "Come back."

"Come back?" She echoed. "I've just gotten here. I can't just come back. And, anyway, I'm sure all the flights are booked." It hurt her more than anything to say no to him, and be harsh, but it was something she'd done a lot of lately. She wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and forget anything had ever happened, but that story had been told before, and she wouldn't just go back again. Nothing would change, and she needed change like you needed oxygen to breathe. She felt suffocated, smothered, and out of control in her own life, and she hated it.

"I miss you."

Her throat was drier than ever, and her heart was beating painfully against her ribcage. "Dom. I can't."

"Why?" His voice lost it's deepness, and was now high-pitched, begging. "You didn't have to leave, you know. I don't know why you did--"

"Dom." He stopped talking abruptly, and she thought she heard a sob escape him; it wasn't like him to cry, and as of late, it wasn't like him to show any emotion towards her whatsoever. He had gotten remarkably distant, and she didn't understand what she had done to cause this gap between them. "You know why I left."

"Aida," he breathed deeply. "I can't breathe without you."

"Yes, you can," she replied, swallowing hard. "You're breathing right now."

"I know I hurt you, but I want you to forgive me."

Aida took a deep breath and then slowly let it out; her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke, "I can't."

"Why not? You've always forgiven me in the past."

"That's exactly why I can't now. I won't go back to how it was, Dom. I won't. I can't be there for you if you're just going to push me away. I can't love you if you won't love me back. And I can't be in a relationship with someone just because it's comfortable." She didn't realize she was crying until she felt salty wetness hit her upper lip; she wiped at her eyes and sniffed. "I'm sorry."

"I never told you," he whispered, and suddenly stopped.

"Told me what?"

He sighed, "Come home, Aida. I want to spend Christmas with you."

"I am home."

"Home is where the heart is." She could practically see his shy little smile as he said it, and her heart beat faster.

"My heart is here," she replied, nearly choking on the words.

"I don't know what to say," Dom stated blankly. "I don't want to loose you."

"You lost me a long time ago, Dom," Aida said, sniffing again. "All those times when you held back; all those times you never let me in. All those times you ignored me. You lost me then."

"I'm so sorry." For the first time, she heard the truth in his voice, and she felt a familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hated being like this to him; she hated this entire situation. And, deep inside, she felt like she even hated him.

Though, oddly enough, she also knew she loved him with all of her heart.

and i had only one wish on my list
for me you would be the perfect gift
there's nothing colder than an empty home
and holidays were never meant to be alone
the smiles we gave when our hearts were saved
by each others love and warmth
that's subsided now no happiness around
if i could only find a way to your heart

The snow continued throughout the day, little sprinkles here and there, sometimes a lot of big flakes with a gust of wind. Aida managed to get across the street without being killed; she stocked up on what they had for edible foods which included many bags of crisps, some bottles of soda and gum. She found herself loading up on magazines that had his name on the cover, or a movie he had been in mentioned, and for that she wanted to scream.

She needed to de-tox from him; she had been addicted for too long, and it was time for her to get into rehab.

Her best friend, Casey, claimed that the best rehab from an addiction of the boyfriend variety was to find yourself another, which had prompted Casey to invite Aida to her annual Christmas Shag-You-Rotten party, which consisted of alcohol, drunken and horny guys, and heavily made-up girls.

But that wasn't even an option; instead, Aida opted to spend Christmas at her flat, drinking carbonated beverages and shoving her face with oily fried potato products.

While she watched "It's A Wonderful Life" and cursed the gods because that was literally the only thing on.

Aida's thoughts drifted in and out, sometimes she'd think of the good times, and then she would remind herself that it had not always been fun and games.

There were the times when she'd be alone at his apartment, watching soap operas, while he gallivanted from bar to bar with his friends. His friends all told her that he just didn't know how to deal with the feelings he had for her.

But she didn't believe them.

And it didn't matter, because at the end of the day, it was not the going out without her that made her upset. It was the emotionless telephone conversations and when he ignored her, that really put her over the edge.

Sitting on the window seat, watching the snow fall down as the sky darkened into night, Aida felt tears falling steadily down her cheeks.

She didn�t bother to stop them.

outside the wind it seems so cold
your heart is frozen like the snow
and there's no one home
to keep you safe and warm
your eyes are red because you've cried
you fell asleep by the fireside
but there's one thing you should know
on this christmas baby
you don't have to be alone

Aida had never had a family Christmas. Well, she had, but it had been when she was small; perhaps four or five years old, and she didn�t remember it at all. Her parents died when she was six, and she was raised mostly by random foster families. She had always been really quiet, reserved, and untrusting.

When she met Dom that fateful day, things changed. It was her twenty-second birthday, and she had chosen to go against routine and actually venture out to a pub and get completely sloshed. Sure, she�d had her over-partying, very drunk days, but they had run out, and gotten very redundant. There�s only so much you can do to hinder your thoughts, stop your memories, and all-together fall out of reality and into an unconscious state.

It got old after a while.

She and a few friends had gone to a local pub, and had seen a group of relatively good looking blokes in the back; thinking it�d be a good time, they had flirted, teased, and reapplied lipstick several times over.

When the blokes had turned out to be complete drunken assholes, and taken the girls out into the alley to �have some fun,� Dom had been wandering by, looking for a new pub to get a few drinks at, and perhaps shoot some pool.

He hadn�t expected to play the hero and, inevitably, fall in love. But he had, and rather quickly. It was unusual for him to care that much so soon. For her, it was the opposite. She�d been very reluctant of him as he had pulled the sweaty man off her and thrown him against a dumpster. He looked like a nice guy, a guy who wouldn�t purposely hurt her, or attack her, but she had never trusted easily, and especially not someone she had just met.

She�d fallen in love with him over time, and eventually she couldn�t get enough of him. That was when he started pulling away, and acting distant. He got scared. He had never professed his feelings to girls, and certainly not to any that he thought he might have loved.

He�d never really loved before; there had been his fair of crushes, one night stands, and his whoring days, but he had never really fallen in love with a girl.

He didn�t know how to react to her anymore; she was different to him. So, he figured, the best remedy of the situation was to push her away.

And push her away, he did.

Dom hadn�t counted on the odd feelings in the pit of his stomach really being what romantics called �love.�

Too bad he hadn�t realized it until he�d seen her walk away.

outside the wind it seems so cold
your heart is frozen like the snow
and there's no one home
to keep you safe and warm
your eyes are red because you've cried
you fell asleep by the fireside
but there's one thing you should know
on this christmas baby
you don't have to be alone

Aida was completely covered in her mother�s quilt, her eyes drifting closed, when there was a knock on the door. She snapped awake and checked the clock; it beamed at her through the darkness, its red numbers flashing nine. Aida had always been a late-nighter, like Dom, but lately she just couldn�t seem to get enough sleep; she yawned lethargically and cursed under her breath at the intrusion.

There was another knock and she pushed the quilt off her, and slowly got to her feet. Pushing her hair out of her face, she murmured a hoarse, �Coming,� at the door.

�AIDA!� He yelled, knocking again. �Aida, open the door!�

Shocked, she stared at the closed door, her heart beating fast. For a second, she thought maybe she was dreaming, but then he knocked again, louder. �Dom?� She moved towards the door, checking to make sure she had some form of clothing on. She was so out of it, that she didn�t even know if she�d dressed properly; as it turned out, she had her comfortable pajamas on.

�AIDA!� Dom hollered again. �Please, I know you don�t want to talk to me, but please just open the door. I LOVE YOU! I FUCKING LOVE YOU!�

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she unlocked the door and put her hand on the handle. �What? Are you completely pissed?�

�No,� he laughed, and the sound of it made her smile slightly. �I�ve always loved you. I was a prick, and I�m sorry, but I was scared to death of what I was feeling. And I didn�t even KNOW what I was feeling. God, I�m really daft.�

Aida laughed quietly and put her head against the door. �You are, yeah.� She tucked her hair behind her ears and turned the doorknob, opening it to him.

Dom let out a long breath, a smile on his lips. �I love you.�

She stepped back, surveying him; she crossed her arms across her chest, �Did you swim here?�

He grinned, �It�s raining. Or snowing. Or both, alternating. I love you.�

�I heard that the first four times you said it,� Aida cocked her head to the side, �Is that all? Because I�m really tired and my bed feels neglected.�

�Aida,� Dom muttered. �Don�t.�

She smiled at him, �You think you can just fly over here, tell me you love me, and I�ll just jump into your arms?�

Dom frowned, �Yes.�

�Oh,� Aida nodded, and thought for a moment. �Well, you�re right.�

They were both smiling when they grabbed hold of each other; Dom�s drenched clothes not being any sort of trouble to Aida, when he started to pull back to kiss her, she wouldn�t let go.

�I love you, too,� she murmured, holding him closer.

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