Closed Have Yerself A Merry Little Christmas solo

Illowy rubbed her face with her free hand as she tried to will herself to pull herself together. The holiday weekend had been long. Painfully long. It wasn't that she didn't love her family, she did completely. But every Christmas that passed without her cousin was becoming harder. She'd never grown accustomed to having to bare it alone without his help.

Christmases had always been a little tedious. Kyle had never been a big fan of holidays and his mother always went all out for Christmas especially. If a surface could be trimmed with lights and tinsel, it was. Hot chocolate by the barrels, a nauseating amount of peppermint and evergreen scents filled the house. She'd always go the full nine. As a child, it was magical, but as she'd grown up, it became overwhelming. Kyle had always found some relief to her presence at holidays as well, because his mother's focus shifted from him, to her niece; a position Illowy was happy to fill for the sake of good memories.

What she wouldn't give now to see that garish, headache inducing deluge of Christmas spirit returned to it's former glory. Her aunt and uncle had never quite recovered from their son's disappearance. Holidays were no longer the overwhelming outpour of cheer they'd once been. Her aunt had tried, at first, but over the years it had become less and less. This year, there was no big celebration with family, no over trimmed home aside from a modest christmas tree, no massive dinner fit for half a battalion. It was simply herself, her mother, and her aunt and uncle. Even her mother's appearance had been short lived. A quick little dinner, a short gift exchange, and just like that, it was all over and Illowy returned to West London, having told her mother she was planning to spend the rest of the Christmas Holiday with friends. Not that her mother seemed to care.

That was another thing that never recovered. Her relationship with her mother only grew colder and more distant. Letters were rare, and often only when necessary. Illowy avoided staying at her mother's when possible, not that she knew her daughter was staying with her father now. She always excused that she was with friends. That was explanation enough. If anything, that made Illowy feel even more bitter, drover her to want to act out and demand her mother's attentions. However, that was a battle Illowy wasn't willing to fight. There was no point.

So here she was, sitting on the stoop of her father's flat, trying to wash away the memories of Christmas past. She raked the fingers of her free hand through her hair the other drew a cigarette to her lips. The curls of smoke that escaped her lungs were so stark against the cold, black night as slow slowly drifted from the sky.

Inside, she could hear her father's movements about the flat. There had been some celebrations with him. It was quiet, and modest. He'd gotten her a handful of gifts in the form of a new wand holster, some books she'd had her eye on and an enchanted set of watercolours. Not that she painted much anymore, but she appreciated the thought, nonetheless. He didn't try to make up for what she was clearly missing, and while she still didn't trust the man as far as she could Depulso him, she could accept an attempt from him at bridging the gap. At least he tried. That was more then she could say for her mother. Actions spoke louder then words, and for years at this point her mother was quiet on both fronts.

Illowy flicked the bud away into the street before reaching down to stroke Killian at her side, who seemed perfectly cozy and content despite the cold weather. The ball of fluff looked up at her with a chirp as she touched him, "Inside, Killian." she spoke softly, getting to her feet and pushing the door open, watching at the kitty stretched and yawned before sauntering inside. Illowy followed behind, silently sending out a small Christmas wish out into the universe, like a prayer, hoping where ever her cousin was now, that he was okay and keeping out of trouble.