Work Text:
The car hummed as it rolled through the quiet streets of Seattle, its headlights carving a path through the early morning fog. It was way too early to be on the road on Christmas morning, and yet here they were.
Jules leaned against the cold window in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by.
Mika sat beside her, her hand close but not touching, not with Simone and Blue and Lucas around.
“Jules, this it?” Simone called from the back, breaking Jules’ thoughts.
“Yeah,” Jules said, sitting up straighter. “Just a second.”
Mika’s van slowed to a stop in front of Maxine’s cozy two-story house.
Jules opened the door, pulling her coat tighter around her as she stepped out into the crisp air. She glanced back at the car, where Mika caught her eye and offered a small, knowing smile. Jules returned it before heading up the steps.
The door opened before she could knock.
“Jules, sweetheart!” Maxine exclaimed, pulling her into a warm embrace.
“Hey, Max,” Jules said, hugging her back tightly. Maxine’s familiar scent—lavender and something vaguely citrus—wrapped around her like a blanket. “Merry Christmas.”
“You didn’t need to come all the way here,” Maxine chided gently, but her smile gave her away.
“I wanted to,” Jules said. “Besides, you’re my favorite person, remember?”
Maxine laughed, patting Jules’ cheek before handing her a festive box tied with a red ribbon. “Here are some cookies for your friends. And yes, Jules, for the tenth time, it’s okay.”
“Are you sure? I feel bad—”
“Don’t,” Maxine interrupted. “I’m heading to Norma’s for brunch. You know she’ll fill me up with more food than I can handle. Go. Spend your Christmas with your misfits.”
Jules hesitated, then pulled Maxine into another hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Maxine brushed her hair back affectionately. “Go on now. And have fun, okay?”
With a final squeeze, Jules stepped back and walked to the car. Mika’s smile was waiting for her, soft and full of meaning, as Jules climbed back in. The others barely noticed the moment, too busy discussing breakfast plans.
At the intern house, the chaos began almost immediately.
“Blue, you’re on breakfast duty,” Simone announced as they all shuffled inside, shedding coats and boots.
“Why me?” Blue groaned, but headed dutifully toward the kitchen.
“Because you’re the only good cook,” Simone said, the unspoken duh hanging the air for a second. “And because I’m helping, so don’t complain.”
Jules hung back in the living room, the box of cookies resting on the coffee table.
Through the frosted window, she watched Lucas pace in the yard with his phone pressed to his ear, his easy smile reminding her of something she couldn’t quite place. He had announced earlier that he needed to call his family, and it always caused Jules’ stomach to twist when someone spoke about their family with so mich warmth.
A soft tug on her hand made Jules turn. Mika stood there, her dark eyes bright with mischief, her fingers wrapping securely around Jules’ wrist.
“Come on,” Mika whispered, intertwining their fingers.
The warmth of Mika’s palm against hers made Jules’ stomach flip, an involuntary reaction she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to.
She glanced around the living room. Blue was cursing something in the kitchen, and Simone was muttering about how she didn’t sign up for chaos so early in the morning.
No one noticed as Mika pulled Jules into the dim hallway.
The moment they were out of sight, Mika leaned against the wall, still holding Jules’ hand. Her grip was firm but not demanding, a touch that said stay here, with me.
“Hey, you,” Mika said, her voice low and warm, with a softness Jules had come to crave.
“Hey back,” Jules replied, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. She took a step closer on instinct.
“I missed you.”
“We spent a whole shift together,” Jules teased, though her words lacked the bite she usually used to deflect.
Mika arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching upward. “It’s not the same.”
It wasn’t. Jules felt it too—the pull that made hours together at work feel hollow compared to the stolen moments like this.
She didn’t know how Mika managed to slip under her skin like this, softening the edges she’d carefully honed her whole life. She didn’t know but she didn’t care either. She just wanted to keep it - and Mika.
Mika reached up and brushed her fingers lightly against Jules’ jaw, a touch so featherlight it almost made her shiver.
Jules closed her eyes for a brief second, the world narrowing to just the press of Mika’s skin against hers, the faint scent of vanilla shampoo, and the quiet thrum of anticipation building between them.
When she opened her eyes, Mika was watching her, something tender and almost shy in her expression. Jules felt her chest tighten. How could someone so sharp, so confident, turn into this gentle, vulnerable thing being for her?
Before Jules could second-guess herself, Mika’s fingers slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Jules’ breath hitched as she let herself be guided, their foreheads brushing first, then their noses, and finally their lips.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative. Mika’s lips moved against hers in a way that felt careful, like she was savoring every second. Jules couldn’t help but smile into it, reaching up to rest her hand on Mika’s waist. She felt the heat of Mika’s body even through the fabric of her shirt, and her fingers curled slightly, holding her closer.
Mika made a quiet, contented noise, pressing deeper into the kiss, and Jules felt herself melt. The touch of Mika’s hand, the faint scrape of her nails against Jules’ neck, sent a thrill skittering down her spine.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, not here, not like this. They’d both agreed to keep things quiet. But in this moment, with Mika pressed against her, Jules couldn’t bring herself to care.
She let her free hand drift to Mika’s face, her thumb tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone. Mika leaned into the touch, her breath warm against Jules’ lips as they broke apart briefly.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jules murmured, her voice unsteady.
Mika laughed softly, her dark eyes sparkling. “And you love it.”
Jules opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a yelp from the kitchen shattered the moment. They pulled apart quickly, Mika’s hand lingering for just a second longer before she let go. Jules took a shaky breath, her heart still pounding as footsteps echoed toward the hallway.
“I guess breakfast isn’t going well,” Mika said, her voice quiet but tinged with amusement.
“Nope,” Jules replied, stepping back but not quite able to tear her eyes away from Mika. Her lips still tingled, her skin still warm where Mika had touched her.
Mika gave her one last look, soft and full of something Jules wasn’t ready to name, before slipping back into the living room. Jules stayed behind for a second longer, running a hand through her hair and trying to steady herself.
This is going to be harder than I thought, she realized, exhaling deeply before following Mika back to the chaos of Christmas morning.
***
The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the intern house as everyone began to gather around the cluttered kitchen table.
Blue, wearing a half-worn apron, was flipping pancakes with exaggerated skill while Simone hovered nearby, pouring coffee into mismatched mugs. Lucas, on the other hand, was still on the phone outside, his deep voice muffled by the closed window.
Jules sat at the edge of the table, her fingers curling around a coffee mug, the warmth seeping into her hands. She had never done mornings like this before.
She glanced over at Mika, who was sitting next to her, leaning forward with a teasing grin. The light from the window caught Mika’s hair, and her smile was radiant.
Jules couldn’t help but admire her. It wasn’t just Mika’s sharp wit or confident demeanor that made Jules feel like she was losing her own grip on reality—it was the softness that crept in, the moments where Mika would touch her, where all the walls would fall away between them.
“So, anyone got any crazy family traditions for Christmas?” Simone asked, breaking the quiet buzz of the room as she handed Jules a plate piled high with pancakes.
Mika picked up a strip of bacon, her eyes twinkling as she leaned back in her chair, clearly amused by the question. “Yeah, do any of you even like your families enough to do the whole ‘tradition’ thing?”
“Oh, I do,” Lucas said, pushing open the kitchen door as he finally ended his call, his face lighting up with a rare, easy smile.
He slouched into the seat next to Simone, reaching for his coffee with a relaxed sigh. “I have lots of aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews. Christmas means a ton of people, a huge breakfast, and Grandma’s house always smells like a mix of cinnamon rolls and turkey. It’s loud, chaotic, and everyone’s arguing over who gets to carve the turkey. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“That sounds… insane,” Blue said, raising an eyebrow. He set down his spatula, leaning back against the counter. He gave a soft chuckle, but there was a gentle warmth in his eyes when he spoke. “But, you know, I kinda get it. My Christmases were just me and my mom. It was always the two of us, but she always made it special. She’d make this ridiculous breakfast, and then we’d sit down to whatever Christmas movie was on TV that year. Just… us.” His voice softened. “I kind of miss it, sometimes, the quiet. She was the only one I really needed.”
There was a tender silence in the room, and for a brief moment, Blue’s usual toughness seemed to fall away. His gaze drifted toward the window, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his mug.
Jules exchanged a glance with Mika, whose hand rested softly on her thigh beneath the table. The weight of Mika’s touch grounded her, bringing her back to the warmth of the room. She squeezed Mika’s hand lightly, offering a small, silent gesture of support, though she didn’t need to say anything.
Simone, sensing Blue’s quiet reflection, reached over and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I think you’re lucky, you know,” she said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Having a Christmas just for you and your mom. It’s special in its own way.”
Blue gave her a grateful nod, the softness in his expression lingering for just a moment longer before he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Yeah… I guess so.”
Mika leaned toward Jules, brushing her fingers lightly along her leg again, a silent but powerful connection that spoke volumes. The weight of Blue’s words felt heavy, and the tender exchange made Jules feel, just for a second, like she was part of something larger than herself.
“Okay, so Lucas’s family sounds loud,” Simone teased, trying to shift the mood, her voice light and easy. “But what about you, Mika? What’s your family like?”
Mika’s eyes gleamed with amusement as she took a sip of her coffee, leaning back into her chair. “Oh, it’s a circus, to say the least. My oldest sister always tries to take charge and fails, and my little sister Chloe? She’s all bubbly energy, Christmas is her favorite time of the year. She makes us all wear ugly sweaters. But honestly, Christmas was never quiet in our house.” Mika smirked. “It was just a blur of presents, noise, and food—lots of food. If you can imagine seven kids fighting over who gets the last slice of pie, that’s pretty much the vibe. But… it’s fun, I guess. We don’t get to see each other as much anymore now that we’re all grown up, but when we do… it’s like we’ve never been apart.”
There was a distant longing in Mika’s voice, a rare crack in her usual confident demeanor. She didn’t show it often, but Jules could feel it.
“You miss them, huh?” Jules asked softly, meeting Mika’s eyes with a quiet understanding.
Mika gave her a subtle nod, the briefest flicker of something vulnerable crossing her face before her usual mask slipped back into place.
She met Jules’ gaze, the warmth between them palpable, and she gave Jules’ leg another gentle squeeze beneath the table. It wasn’t much, just a soft pressure, but it sent a wave of warmth through Jules, making her heart swell.
Simone, noticing the moment pass between the two of them, flashed them a knowing smile.
Jules felt her cheeks warm, her heart pounding faster at the thought of being outed. It felt like their secret was becoming harder to hide, even in moments like this. But with Mika’s hand on her leg, squeezing just enough to ground her, Jules didn’t feel afraid. There was a comfort in knowing that, for now, they were together.
“Okay, okay, enough of the sentimentality,” Lucas said with a grin, breaking the quiet tension. He grabbed a pancake and shoved it onto his plate, and they all erupted into easy, friendly banter as the morning stretched on.
Laughter filled the room, and for a moment, the weight of everything—family, secrets, the uncertainty of what lay ahead—seemed to fade away.
Jules didn’t need to say anything more. She didn’t need to explain why it was hard for her to fully embrace the idea of family, or why she kept her distance. In this moment, with Mika’s hand still warm on her leg, and the quiet understanding that passed between them, Jules knew one thing for certain: She wasn’t alone.
***
A while later, the room was bustling with the remnants of breakfast.
Plates were being cleared, the kitchen filled with the sounds of Simone and Blue’s banter as they washed dishes, and Lucas, being a Christmas perfectionist, stood by the tree, making small adjustments to the mismatched ornaments.
Jules sat back in her chair, watching it all unfold. She felt a quiet satisfaction in the noise, the shared laughter, the normalcy.
She wasn’t used to it. These people, these friends—who were becoming more than friends—made her feel like she belonged. But then, her phone buzzed, pulling her from the moment.
She glanced at the screen, her stomach twisting just a little when she saw her brother’s name pop up. Doug rarely reached out unless it was for something, but this text was different.
Merry Christmas, Jules. Hope you’re doing okay. Maybe we can catch up sometime soon.
It was kind, even a little thoughtful.
But the words hit harder than she expected.
It wasn’t the message that hurt—though a small part of her felt a pang—but rather the hollow realization that she was more connected to this group of people, these strangers who had become family, than to her own brother. He was family by blood, but it felt like that connection was slowly fading, becoming more distant and strained with each passing year, and she didn’t know how that made her feel.
She stared at the message for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Should she reply? She should, she knew it. It was a nice thing to say.
But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that a simple text couldn’t fix what had frayed between them over the years.
With a sigh, she typed back quickly: “Merry Christmas, Doug. Hope you’re good.” She hit “Send” and stuffed the phone back into the front pocket of her hoodie, as if the action could somehow shake off the lingering sadness.
Needing to breathe, Jules stood up, walking out through the back door and into the cold air.
The backyard was quiet, almost empty, save for a couple of windblown branches from the tree, and the distant hum of the house behind her.
She headed toward a corner sheltered by the wind, where an old wicker chair sat. The space felt like it could hold all her unspoken emotions in one quiet place.
She sat down, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared into the nothingness of the backyard.
The soft hum of the house and the faint sound of laughter from inside felt so far away. Despite the closeness she’d found in this home with her friends, a part of her still felt like an outsider. A visitor in her own life. Maybe that’s why the message from Doug had felt like it wasn’t enough.
She glanced at her phone again.
A part of her regretted replying at all. It didn’t feel like enough to mend things. She knew it wouldn’t change anything.
The door creaked open behind her, and she barely registered the sound before she heard Mika’s voice, low and warm. “You okay out here?”
Jules turned to find Mika standing at the edge of the porch, her silhouette framed by the warm light spilling from inside. She didn’t answer right away, just pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tight as her gaze stayed fixed on the ground.
Mika stepped closer, her movements deliberate but gentle. She didn’t speak at first, just sat down beside Jules on the chair, leaning her back against the wicker frame, her presence a quiet comfort. The air between them was filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection that needed no words.
Jules could feel the warmth of Mika’s body, close enough that their sides brushed, and that subtle pressure was enough to anchor her in the moment.
“You know, they’re ready for presents,” Mika said, her voice soft, trying to keep the mood light. “They’re probably gonna start without us if we don’t get inside soon.”
Jules just nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Mika’s words but not quite ready to leave the silence yet. She could feel the tension in her chest, that familiar knot that only seemed to tighten when she thought about her family.
Mika didn’t ask her to come back inside. Instead, she reached out, gently resting her hand on the armrest, brushing her thumb along the soft fabric. It was a simple gesture, but one that spoke volumes.
Mika’s love language was touch—always had been, always would be. She didn’t need words to say that she was there, that Jules wasn’t alone.
Jules looked over at her, her breath catching as she noticed the tenderness in Mika’s gaze. It wasn’t pity, or concern—it was something deeper, something that made Jules feel like she was seen, truly seen, for the first time in a long time.
Mika’s fingers shifted, moving slowly to rest on Jules’ forearm and then to her hand, where she tangled their fingers together. She squeezed lightly, her touch grounding and warm. “You’re not alone, Jules,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “Not anymore.”
A lump formed in Jules’ throat, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. It was just that words felt insufficient for the weight of the moment. Instead, she just let herself feel the quiet, tender touch on her skin. The steady presence of someone who understood, who saw her.
Mika leaned in then, close enough that Jules could feel her breath against her temple before she pressed a soft kiss to the skin there.
It was quick, fleeting, but it made Jules’ heart flutter in her chest. That kiss felt like a promise, a silent vow that she wasn’t alone in this. That no matter what happened, Mika would be there.
“Hey,” Mika whispered against her skin, her voice low, as if it was meant only for Jules. “You don’t have to carry all this on your own. You’ve got me.”
The words settled in Jules’ chest, and for the first time in a while, she let herself believe them. She wasn’t sure where the road ahead would lead, but she knew, in that quiet moment, that it was okay to be here. With Mika. With her friends. That was enough for now.
Jules turned her head, meeting Mika’s eyes. There was a softness there, one that made her feel warm inside, like maybe she was worthy of it after all. With a sigh, she let herself lean into Mika’s side, finding comfort in the simple, quiet connection they shared.
“Thank you,” Jules whispered, her voice small but filled with more gratitude than she knew how to express.
Mika didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t need to. Instead, she just pulled Jules closer, wrapping her arm around her.
The quiet of the backyard seemed to stretch around them, like the world had slowed down just for this brief moment between them.
With Mika’s arm around her, Jules felt a warmth she hadn’t realized she needed, a comfort that came not from words, but from the simple, reassuring presence of the woman beside her.
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds were the distant hum of the house, the muffled laughter from inside, and the gentle rustling of the wind through the trees. The chill of the air bit at Jules’ cheeks, but she didn’t care. Mika was here, her presence warm against her side, and that was enough.
Jules couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this… safe. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to. With her parents, with Doug, she had always been the one to shoulder the burden, the one who kept things together, even when everything around her fell apart.
“I’m sorry,” Jules muttered after a beat, breaking the silence. Her voice was small, almost apologetic, as though she were burdening Mika with something that didn’t belong there.
Mika, ever perceptive, turned slightly toward her, her arm still around Jules, the warmth of her touch grounding. “What’s there to be sorry for?” Mika’s voice was calm, soothing, like she knew exactly where Jules’ mind was wandering.
“I don’t know… I just…” Jules trailed off, unsure of what she was even trying to explain. The words were hard to find, tangled in the mess of her feelings. “I guess I don’t know how to be… not alone. I mean, I’ve been on my own for so long that it just feels weird, you know? Like I don’t deserve to be… here, with all of you. With you.”
Mika didn’t flinch. She didn’t pull away. She just sat with Jules in that moment, offering a steady presence. “Jules,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. Where is this coming from?”
Jules let out a breath, shaking her head slightly. “I got a message from Doug. It wasn’t… it wasn’t bad, actually surprisingly nice, but I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t know how to feel about any of it.”
“Family is not always what we hope it’ll be.”
Jules looked up at her then, her eyes meeting Mika’s gaze.
The tenderness there, the depth of understanding, made her heart skip a beat. For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she could let go of the things that held her back. She didn’t need to figure it all out in this moment. She just needed to be here, with Mika.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” Jules said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “What we have. Us.”
It was the first time either of them acknowledged that thing they had going on as an ‘us’, even though it had been a few weeks now. But they hadn’t even had sex yet, both of them okay with taking things slow, so Jules hadn’t thought much about naming things between them. It didn’t feel like she needed to. Things with Mika always seemed to find their way.
Mika’s smile was small, but it held a weight of meaning that Jules could feel deep in her chest.
“You won’t, I won’t let you,” Mika said, her voice firm but soft, as though she were making a promise. She leaned in closer, her forehead brushing lightly against Jules’ temple. “We’ve got this. Together.”
The words settled over Jules like a warm blanket. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t expected to carry everything on her own. It felt like it was okay to just… be. To be with Mika. To let the rest of the world fade away for a little while.
Mika shifted then, pulling back just enough to look at Jules properly. Her thumb brushed along Jules’ cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a tender, almost affectionate gesture. “We should probably head inside. They’ll be waiting.”
Jules nodded slowly, though she didn’t want to leave the peace of this quiet moment. But, she knew Mika was right. They had a Christmas to share. Gifts. Laughter. A moment of warmth that she didn’t want to miss.
She stood up reluctantly, and Mika followed, her hand once again resting on the small of Jules’ back, a subtle, yet firm touch that conveyed more than words could. They walked back toward the house together, and as they reached the door, Mika glanced at Jules, her smile soft and inviting.
“You okay?” Mika asked, her voice quieter than usual.
Jules gave a small, genuine smile, the kind that reached her eyes. “Yeah.”
And she was. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, or when she had let go of all the things weighing on her, but being here, with Mika, surrounded by her friends, felt like the first time in a long time that she could breathe. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had this. She had Mika.
As they entered the house, the noise and laughter of their friends enveloped them. The tree sparkled with colorful lights, gifts piled up underneath, and the warm scent of cookies filled the air.
Maybe this was what it felt like to be part of something. To belong.
***
The cozy warmth of the living room felt comforting against the cool air outside. The group had settled into a circle, the tree lights flickering with a festive glow, casting soft shadows around the room.
Blue was the first to open his gift. The group had pooled together and gotten him a set of new games. As he opened them, his face lit up with excitement. He’d been the only one to answer the “what do you want” questions the group had asked, and now, his wishes had been granted.
“YES!” Blue grinned widely, holding up one of the games. “You guys are the best!”
Lucas chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course we are. You’re impossible to shop for, but we did it.”
Lucas was next. He opened a long small box with his name on it, and found a sleek new stethoscope.
“Giving yours away to that Milo kid really ruined your tough act,” Blue commented, but the smile on his face was genuine. “Thought you might need a replacement.”
Lucas grinned, looking at Blue and then the others appreciatively before he unwrapped a small gift that held a small Skywalker figurine and a gift card to his favorite bookstore downtown. The perfect nerdy combination for the biggest nerd.
“Thank you, guys.”
“Just… don’t get lost in there for hours,” Blue teased, to which Lucas rolled his eyes.
Lucas handed out his first gift to Simone, a necklace—delicate, understated, but elegant, with a simple golden heart. Simone’s eyes widened a little at the beauty of it, and she met Lucas’ eyes with a soft look.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, and there was something warm and genuine in her expression that she rarely showed.
Simone received a couple of pullovers, soft and luxurious, that Jules had handpicked for her. The pullovers were perfect for her style, and when Simone unwrapped them, she immediately gave Jules a warm smile.
“These are perfect, Jules,” Simone said softly, a tone that was uncharacteristically sincere, and Jules caught the glimpse of something deeper in her eyes.
“Hey, it’s from all of us!” Blue exclaimed.
“But we all know whose idea it was,” Mika commented.
The group chuckled.
Mika came next.
From the group, she received the leather jacket she’d been eyeing for weeks. The moment she pulled it out, a wide grin spread across her face. “I’m going to look so good in this,” she said with a laugh, tossing a wink at the group.
Jules couldn’t deny that.
The gift from Jules, however, was the one that felt truly personal. A bracelet, handcrafted with care—simple yet elegant, with little charms that represented parts of their connection.
Jules had spent hours picking out the charms, each one meant to represent something meaningful to Mika, and she had been nervous about it all week.
Mika’s expression softened as she opened the gift. “It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She took the bracelet and gently slipped it onto her wrist, her fingers lingering on the charms for a moment.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jules said with a shy smile.
“I’ll never take it off,” Mika replied, her voice low, just for Jules.
“Your turn, Jules,” Blue said, redirecting Jules’ attention back to the group.
Lucas, with his usual grin, slid a box in front of Jules, his eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief. “We didn’t think you’d expect this one,” he said, glancing at Blue, who nodded in agreement.
Jules furrowed her brow. “What is it?” She tore open the wrapping, revealing an old, elegant leather case. As she opened it, her breath caught in her throat.
Inside was a vintage camera, its polished metal gleaming under the lights. It was beautiful—classic, but with a worn charm that made it feel like it had a story to tell. The kind of camera you might find in a thrift store in Paris, Jules thought with a quick smile.
Her fingers hovered over it, careful, as though it might be a delicate treasure she needed to protect. “Oh my God,” she whispered. She turned the camera over in her hands, eyes wide. “This is… guys, this is amazing. And way too expensive!”
“You said once you wanted to take more photos. We thought this would be perfect for you,” Blue said, his tone light but sincere. “And you’ve got an eye for art. You’ll capture things no one else would think to.”
Jules’ heart softened, and she quickly blinked away a stray tear. She hadn’t expected such a personal gift. This group—the people who had become her chosen family—knew her in a way no one else ever had. They saw her, and they cared.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she murmured.
“You don’t need to,” Lucas said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Just take some great photos, okay? You deserve it.”
Jules nodded, still holding the camera to her chest as if it might disappear. She felt a swell of emotion, but before she could say anything else, Mika leaned in from behind her and whispered softly, “Let’s go take some photos together soon. I think this camera’s just the start of something.”
Jules glanced over at her, heart fluttering at the subtle but meaningful promise in Mika’s voice. “I’d love that.”
She really wished she could kiss her right now.
Jules felt Mika’s hand slip into hers, just as Simone leaned in, making a comment about what could come next in their new tradition. Jules squeezed Mika’s hand softly, thankful for her steady presence.
But just as the conversation shifted to the day’s plans, Mika leaned toward Jules.
“I’ve got one more thing for you,” Mika murmured quietly, her voice full of warmth.
Jules turned, eyes catching Mika’s, and before she could say anything, Mika pulled out a small wrapped gift.
Jules took it as if it was the most precious thing ever.
She carefully slid her fingers into the paper, and unwrapped it with more patience than Mika had- if the way Mika bit her lip was anything to go by.
Finally, the paper fell into Jules lap and revealed a leather-bound notebook. It was beautifully crafted, the kind of notebook that felt timeless in its simplicity. And a pen, resting on top of it, its elegant curve almost as if it were made for Jules’ hand.
“I know you love to write, Jules,” Mika said softly, her gaze steady. “I thought this might be something you’d like.”
Jules’ breath caught as she held the notebook in her hands, the feel of the leather warm against her skin. “I—this is perfect, Mika. I love it.” Her fingers traced the surface of the notebook, and she could feel the emotion in the gesture. There was something so intimate about this—Mika knew her so well, in ways no one else did.
Mika smiled and squeezed her thigh momentarily, just a soft touch that left a warmth blooming in Jules’ chest. “I thought you’d like it. You’re always writing. I’m just happy I could add to your collection.”
Jules opened the notebook, flipping through it until something on the last page caught her eyes. A faint scribble on the bottom corner. Her heart skipped a beat.
The note was short: “For the moments we shared, and the ones yet to come. Yours, M.”
Jules looked up at Mika, her eyes wide with a thousand unspoken thoughts.
Mika’s smile was a little soft, a little secretive. She didn’t say anything, but Jules could feel the meaning in the air between them, thick with tenderness and quiet understanding.
Before Jules could speak, Simone, ever observant, cast a glance in their direction. Her gaze was sharp, her brow slightly furrowed. She exchanged a quick look with Blue, and Jules could tell Simone was piecing something together.
Jules swallowed, her heart pounding a little faster. She hadn’t wanted to make their connection obvious—not yet. But it was hard to hide the way her heart quickened whenever Mika was near.
Simone’s gaze lingered just a second longer than necessary. Jules felt exposed, but she forced a smile, turning back to Mika, who was still sitting close, her fingers lightly brushing against Jules’ hand.
The moment felt like it could stretch on forever, but before it could get more intense, Blue’s voice broke the silence.
“Okay, okay, let’s get this party started before we drown in all this feelings stuff,” he said, his usual grin breaking the tension.
Jules laughed, relieved to have the focus shift, even if just for a moment.
She stayed on the floor as the guys began to gather the wrapping paper spread all around the living room. She let her eyes trail over the gifts in her lap, feeling a little too overwhelmed to move.
They let her be.
Blue and Lucas argued about what kind of game they’d play first as they disappeared into the kitchen. Simone told them she’d be right back, and Mika…
Mika was still by her side.
“You okay?” She asked, looking at Jules with a small frown.
Jules opened her mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. “She knows,” she said eventually.
Mika’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, she knows?”
Jules glanced up, meeting Mika’s gaze, her heart fluttering with the weight of the admission. “Simone. I think she knows… about us. Or at least that something is up.”
“Do you think she’ll say anything?”
“I don’t know.” Jules’ voice was small, quieter than usual. “She’s been watching us for a while now. Ever since… well, since everything.” She bit her lip, the vulnerability from earlier creeping back in.
Mika, always quick to sense when Jules needed reassurance, gently squeezed her hand. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her voice low and steady, the words meant only for Jules. “If she does know, it’ll be fine. We don’t have to rush this, we don’t have to make it public until we’re ready.”
Jules let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Jules could feel the weight of Mika’s words sink deeper into her chest, a comfort, a promise. It was a balm for the restlessness that had been gnawing at her all morning. She squeezed Mika’s hand lightly, savoring the brief moment of peace between them.
But then, a thought struck her, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “What if I am ready?”
Mika’s smile faltered for a split second, surprise flashing in her eyes. “What do you mean?” she asked softly, her voice still carrying that warmth that made Jules feel like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.
Jules could feel her pulse quicken, a sudden nervous energy washing over her. Her breath hitched slightly as she considered the depth of her next words. What if I’m ready? What if it’s time to stop running from the good things in life?
She looked at Mika, really looked at her—at the quiet strength in her eyes, the kindness in the way she always touched her, the depth of what they had shared over the past weeks. Jules could feel the truth of her feelings rising up inside her, undeniable and intense.
“I don’t want to hide what I feel for you, Mika,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, but it felt like it had taken all her courage to say the words out loud.
Mika’s gaze softened. She didn’t say anything right away, just allowed the moment to linger in the air between them.
Jules’ heart raced, her thoughts spinning with everything she had held back over the past few weeks. Her mind was screaming at her to just say it, but the vulnerability of the words was terrifying.
Before she could gather herself to continue, the door to the hallway creaked open, and Simone appeared, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
Jules immediately felt her face flush, but it wasn’t the usual awkwardness that came with being caught in a private moment. It was something else—something warmer, more freeing. Simone didn’t look like she was about to say anything, but Jules couldn’t help but feel like, in that moment, everything she had been afraid of was slowly slipping away.
Simone’s gaze flickered between the two of them, and without saying a word, she gave them both a small, reassuring smile. The kind of reassurance that told Jules, you’re okay. You’re seen.
And that was all it took.
Jules turned back to Mika, her eyes locking with hers, the moment stretching out between them in the stillness of the room. There was no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. She wasn’t going to hide anymore. She wasn’t going to hold back from what felt real.
“I think I love you, Mika Yasuda,” Jules said, her voice steady now, filled with everything she had been keeping bottled up. The words came out like a confession, but also like a relief.
Mika’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of disbelief followed by a radiant smile that lit up her face, transforming it into something dazzling. She leaned forward, her hands gently cupping Jules’ face as she brought her closer.
“Jules, I can’t believe you said it first,” Mika whispered, her voice barely audible but it carried a pout. “I love you too.”
And then, with the softest of sighs, Mika kissed her.
It wasn’t a kiss full of urgency, or desperation, or any of the things Jules had been afraid of. It was soft, tender, filled with a warmth that wrapped around her like the most comforting embrace.
It was the kind of kiss that told Jules everything she had been longing to hear but was too scared to ask for. It told her that she wasn’t alone anymore, that what they had was real.
Jules melted into the kiss, her heart racing in a way that made her feel like she was floating. Mika’s lips were gentle, sure. Every brush of her mouth against Jules’ felt like it was sealing something—something deep and beautiful.
But just as the kiss deepened, their quiet moment was broken by a loud, unmistakable voice from the other side of the room.
“Simone, you owe me. I called that weeks ago!” Blue’s voice rang out, full of triumphant glee.
Jules broke away from Mika in shock, her face flushed as she turned toward the voice. Blue and Lucas were grinning mischievously, while Simone stood nearby, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.
“Called what?” Jules managed to stammer, still reeling from the kiss and the emotions flooding her.
“I bet Simone twenty bucks last month that you two were more than just friends,” Blue said, his grin widening.
Jules stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “You—what?”
Were they that obvious?
Jules’ cheeks burned at the teasing, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. It was a sound she hadn’t heard from herself in a while—a laugh that felt free and unburdened. She was here, in this moment, and everything felt real and alive.
“You two are impossible,” Simone said to the boys. But then, her smile softened, and her gaze shifted back to Jules and Mika. “I’m happy for you both,” she added quietly.
Jules’ eyes flickered back to Mika, her pulse still racing.
The room felt warmer now, lighter. All that mattered was that Mika was there, her presence grounding and steady beside her.
As the teasing from the guys continued, with Lucas loudly proclaiming that he was “just waiting for this to happen,” and Blue saying something about I knew it all along, Jules couldn’t help but feel a mixture of joy and embarrassment.
She tried to hide her face in the crook of Mika’s neck, her cheeks flushed with warmth, but Mika just chuckled, brushing her fingers through her hair, soothing her.
“Leave my girlfriend alone,” Mika said, her voice playful but with a touch of protectiveness that made Jules’ heart swell.
The guys erupted into exaggerated protests, but Mika’s declaration made Jules feel something deep inside—a quiet confidence, an assurance that, no matter what, they had something real.
“Girlfriend huh?”
“Well, I’m not letting you go so…” Mika shrugged but Jules easily caught the nervousness.
Jules leaned into Mika, her heart still pounding, but in the best way. This was the start of something new, something she didn’t need to hide anymore. She was ready to let it be, let it grow.
And when Mika kissed her again, Jules dr like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
“I love you,” Jules whispered into space between them when they parted, foreheads resting together.
Mika smiled, her voice warm as she replied, “I love you too, Jules.”
And that was enough.
…