Your name was John Egbert and you weren’t sure when, but it had become somewhat of a Christmas tradition on Earth C for Rose to spend the better part of a month knitting these absolutely horrendous sweaters for everyone, which would be presented to them at first sighting on Christmas Eve, to be worn on Christmas day for gift opening.
It was kind of funny, since Rose was Jewish. Not that any of these religions existed in the history of the new world, since you were literally their gods, but. She still practiced, whether it was out of irony or spite of the new universe, or some other reason you couldn’t begin to conjure.
Come Christmas Eve, your group flocked to your vacant home, filling it with love and sound. When the woman of the day sauntered in, looking serene and untouchable in her blue and white sweater with a cartoonish menorah and….. real flames? What the fuck, Rose. Upon closer inspection, the phrase, “LET’S GET LIT” was embroidered above the flames. This magic bullshit was getting out of hand.
Rose seemed to know that her appearance would be a shocker, a small smile dancing on her black-painted lips. In one hand, she held a bag that no doubt contained each of your collective loved ones’ sweaters for the year. Her other arm was locked with Kanaya’s. Even though the troll detested the ugly sweaters, she humored Rose in wearing one each year. You’d never seen a pair as stunning as they.
Rose’s limbs were long, as though she had been stretched out, her hips wide but not extremely so. She was thin, but you knew she packed a decent amount of muscle, almost like a cat. Her platinum blonde hair was a perfect curtain, just thick enough that you couldn’t see through it, not a single hair out of place when she styled it. What a perfectionist. She was, you knew, of mainly French and a little Korean descent, but looked very much the latter. Her wide violet eyes were a stark contrast to her tawny-beige skin, framed effortlessly with long, dark lashes.
Kanaya was taller than Rose, but you’d noticed most of the trolls were taller than the average human. Her hair and makeup were even more meticulously styled than Rose’s, locked into place with hours of work. She took beauty seriously. Her arms and legs were long as well, her features akin to those of an elf. Her hands and arms were strong, you knew, from years of sewing and from wielding a chainsaw, and apparently she had a very strong core.
So of course, they made quite an entrance, arriving together in their awful sweaters and stunning skirts, undoubtedly homemade. On top of the visual match they made, Rose’s tan skin against Kanaya’s green-tinged gray, you had never seen anyone so in love as they were.
The way they communicated wordlessly or within their own language as they navigated to the center of the room was like art to you, fascinating to watch but something you doubted you would ever understand.
Once Rose and Kanaya made it to their destination, the rest of your company settled around them on the floor or on the couch and chairs. The sweaters were passed out slowly, each person laughing at theirs before showing it off and slipping it on, each sweater somehow more terrible and wonderful than the last. As the host and as tradition dictated, your sweater was given last. It was simple, thick white yarn with a Christmas tree on the front, and your initials in small black print on the back near the neckline.
Your name was Rose Lalonde, and you found immense joy in giving your loved ones gifts you knew they would treasure. The sweaters you distributed were but the first of each person’s set of gifts, all tailored specifically to their tastes.
You didn’t really use your powers as a seer for anything anymore, not since the game ended and you had no real need for them. A few times, though, you found yourself taking a glimpse at your possible choices’ outcomes. Some might consider it cheating, but you saw it as using all the tools available to you, such as glancing at different gifts to find the perfect ones.
You knew, then, that your friends might be pleased by what you gave them. You also knew that with Kanaya on your arm, you would make the most stunning entrance of the day. Really, she was absolutely divine to look at.
Thick, dark lashes framed wide-set jade eyes, eyes that when met with your own, filled with more expression than her body could convey. Her eyes smiled at you with the slightest quirk of her plump green-painted lips, or with a raised brow demanded answers to any question you could ever answer. She didn’t even need to speak full sentences for you to understand what she needed.
A rich, melodic voice that complemented her sweet visage would produce a single utterance: “Rose,” and you were enthralled. You would follow her body language to denote what she needed, and would honestly give her anything.
Sharing the center of attention with her at John’s party was nothing new. Your ecto-biological family was happy, as were you to see them and your friends. It was a cheery gathering, not unusual for the few times a year you would meet.
You found yourself laughing without restraint, enjoying the company of those you loved most. You let your boundaries down, allowing yourself to be open and truly enjoy the present company. Most decisions were made with careful precision, but this was made with your heart.
As the evening wore on and everyone started to settle down, treats were brought out, courtesy of the bluest girl you knew who happened to have grown up in an exact copy of one of your best friends’ houses. It was Jane. Jane supplied baked goods, because she cared deeply about all of you.
You were content, you thought, to finish your night this way: surrounded by your loved ones, eating delicious treats, with the love of your life only a breath away.