Which Mistletoe?

Elara's POV I took a deep breath and watched smoke curl lazily into the evening air. The December breeze had a crispness November hadn’t quite managed, and I shivered, tucking my hand deeper into my coat. I hoped the bus would come soon—before my arm froze solid. Across the street, the bright yellow and blue of Vale Electronics Industries caught my eye. From here, it always looked cheerful, almost inviting. I used to smile at that building after long shifts. There was always one single window at the top that stayed open. Now? Everything felt… heavy. The bus screeched to a stop in front of me. I stepped aside, letting an elderly woman climb aboard first. She was bundled in layers of scarves and coats, like a walking snowdrift. I slid into the seat beside her, and she gave me a warm, toothy smile. "Where are you headed?" she asked. I hesitated, then smiled. "Home." It had been so long since I said that and truly meant it—home. Where my family and friends were. Not the empty condominium I’d returned to for years, sometimes with Andrei by my side, both of us exhausted from work, life, and everything in between. "Home for the holidays, that’s nice. I hope it’s magical for you," she said. I smiled back, genuinely this time. I hoped so too. The ride was only a few hours, but the anticipation stretched it out like days. I saw my parents waiting outside, embracing in the cold, and my chest tightened. My mom’s eyes lit up as she saw me dragging my suitcase. My dad grabbed it immediately. "Oh, look at you! You must be freezing," she said, shivering. "Go on inside, both of you. I’ll handle this," Dad said carrying my luggage. "Hug me first!" I hugged them tightly. "I missed you guys so much." "We missed you too, honey," my mom said. She gave me that look—the one that says, I want to comfort you, but I don’t want to overstep. A look full of silent support, pride, and a touch of worry all at once. "Where’s Elias?" I asked as we slid into the van. "He’ll be here next week. Something about a paper he needs to finish before the holiday break," my dad replied. I scanned the streets as we drove. Nostalgia twisted around me—everything felt both familiar and strange. New stores popped up, but I could still name the owners and menus of the old shops by heart. There it was: Double E’s. The first floor now a mini grocery store, the top floor still dedicated to electrical supplies. I twisted in my seat for a better look. "We expanded just recently," my mom explained. "Dad kept the first floor for groceries, and the top floor… well, electrical stuff." That shop had started as my dad’s small electrical repair store. Then my mom transformed it into a full appliance shop. People trusted my dad’s repairs and my mom’s judgment—and it had become our bread and butter. "That’s nice, Mom," I said softly. Her voice faded into the background as we passed the fire station, decorated with just enough Christmas lights to make it feel festive. "He’s still working there, you know," my dad said. I snapped out of my thoughts and turned to him. "Really?" I’d always thought Noah would leave town. He’d wanted to see the world, travel, explore… Did he ever? Or had he stayed here all these years? We pulled up at my childhood home. Nothing had changed. Mom’s sentimentality was intact—the same paint color, the same door style, the same flowerbeds. The warmth of the house and the smell of freshly baked cookies almost made me tear up. It had been seven years since I’d felt this kind of home. Once I was settled in my old room, I grabbed a plate of cookies. "Want to bring some to Noah? I always do when I bake extra," Mom suggested. I hesitated, then smiled. "Yeah. Sure." I did want to see him. "Careful driving in the snow—or he’ll end up coming to get you," Dad called from the living room. "Hey, I’m a good driver!" I shot back, laughing. I carried the warm cookies to Dad’s truck. The station's garage door was open, and I stepped inside. "Hi! I brought some cookies," I said. "Oh, cool! Cookies!" one of the firefighters exclaimed, dropping what he was doing. "Yeah, enjoy," I said, smiling. My nerves buzzed unexpectedly. Why was I nervous? It wasn’t like Noah and I had ended badly… but he had been a friend I lost contact with, thanks to Andrei’s jealousy. "Uh… is Noah here?" I asked. The man froze mid-chew. "Who?" "Noah. Noah Cruz? Does he still work here—" "Oh! Pretty Halo! Yeah, yeah," he called out before disappearing into the station, shouting, "Halo!" I waited, glancing outside. The streets were nearly empty past seven. Then I heard voices. "She brought cookies. Pretty too." "And she’s looking for me—" Noah’s face froze, like someone had hit pause on him. Recognition flickered in his eyes, sharp enough to almost hurt. Seven years melted in an instant. My heart thumped. He looked different, but still… Noah. The boy who carried me home when my feet hurt in fifth grade. The boy who let me sneak over to his house for late-night video games. The boy who comforted me through my first heartbreak. The boy I’d ghosted for seven years because Andrei had been jealous. I raised my hand. "Hi." "Hi," he said, eyes fixed on me, unblinking.