Dawson
Grace doesn’t say anything for a long second after she pulls away.
She’s still standing too close, the camera pressed between us like she had forgotten it was there, like her body moved before her thoughts had the chance to catch up. Her eyes are bright—too bright—and she blinks hard once, then again, like she’s recalibrating the world around her.
Or blinking away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks.
“Well, I know who gave the best gift this year,” Parker mutters under his breath from across the room.
Her mom doesn’t even hesitate—she snatches a pillow off the couch and whips it at him. It smacks him in the side of the head with a soft thwump.
“Ouch,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot like the pillow was made of bricks.
Grace's dad grunts from his chair, but the ex
