adifferentlife | Christmas Eve (for Henri)

For a short while Sybil had wondered if she'd even be able to leave her apartment on the Christmas Eve, the snow coming in droves the day before. But it had tapered off through the night, and on the 24th the roads and footpaths were all clear of it. She'd bundled up to meet Henri at the Soup Kitchen, their time there passing quickly. A few hours of ladeling soup, serving up rolls, and handing over baskets of canned goods and gifts for the children, and she honestly felt as if she'd done something to help those who needed it. It wasn't enough, the simple giving of food only a bandage on the wound. But it was what they could manage today, though she finds herself more determined to contribute more to Darrow in the coming year.

It's perhaps an appropriate mood for going to mass. She's never been to a Catholic Church before, and it seems rather disappointing in the end. In English just as any service she was used to, but with a dreadful number of candles it seems to her. Overall she finds lttle different, refusing communion as the entire idea of transubstantiation seems suspect, but enjoyable nontheless. It's nicer to have Henri to share it with, even if he seems somber at some points of the night.

When they leave it's nearly one in the morning, truly Christmas day. It's snowing again and as she slips her arm through his offered one, Sybil looks up to him contentedly. "Happy Christmas."

Threaded | Flat

Where had he been last Christmas? Combeferre recalled the warm light of the Musain, a bit too much wine, gathered friends. The bells of Notre Dame had rung, and Prouvaire had quoted something sad - Ecclesiastes, probably - and Bahorel had ruined the moment with a lewd joke. Even Enjolras had looked content, and they had all go home thinking not of revolution, but of friendship, and chosen family.

Natural, he supposed, to think about absent friends at a time like this. They had said farewell to Jehan at the church (thank goodness for Jehan - for coming along and making him feel a little less foolish about his Christmas plans, for knowing exactly the moment to turn towards home and leave them to walk together) and he, too, had fallen into a comfortable, thoughtful silence. When the snow started to fall, he tipped his head up, and then turned to her with a soft smile." Joyeux Noel,” he murmured. “Did you enjoy mass?”

The experience had been odd for him, but he kept his thoughts to himself for now.

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