Page 122 of The Nightmare Before Kissmas
The three of us turn to Hex. His brows are popped in a triangle of confusion.
“Silent Nightis a horror movie,” he says like he’s half expecting us to laugh and say all this was a joke.
When we stare at him, he squints. “How many Christmas movies have you watched?”
“Maybe like two or three? When we were kids.” I bob my head. “Rudolphfor sure. That Charlie Brown one. And something with a career-focused dad trying to get his kid the perfect gift like that would make up for him being an absent parent the other 364 days of the year.”
Hex looks, succinctly, mortified. He cups his hands over his face and gives a defeated sigh into the hollow of his palms.
“All right.” He bats me away from the screen. “Step aside.”
I give him maybe an inch of room so he’s forced to stand right against me. He nudges me with his shoulder, then starts scrolling.
“Here.” He stops on a poster for something calledA Christmas Prince.“It’s cheery and will appease everyone in that room. There are sequels, if you truly want a marathon. We can—”
He sees my wide-eyed smirk.
“What?”
“How do you know that movie?” I ask.
Hex studies my growing amusement with resignation, like he knows I’m about to tease him for whatever he’s going to say but there’s no helping it.
“You have to understand,” he starts, tongue pressing on the side of his mouth, “that there are very few Halloween romantic comedies. I believe Easter can attest to that as well.”
Iris’s eyes go to slits in thought. “Oh my god. You’re right. Why did Christmas commandeerthattoo? You guys suck.”
“It’s a sorely overlooked travesty,” says Hex. “Halloween is unutterably romantic.”
“I agree,” I say. “So do you like to study Holidays in cinema, or…?”
Hex sucks in a breath and tugs at the edge of his vest, suppressing a smile. I watch him until all he says is, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”
Iris is the first to giggle. “Hex is a Christmas movie fan!”
“Oh my god.” Kris’s grin is wide. “You’re a Christmas groupie, aren’t you?That’swhy you’re after my brother. I knew it couldn’t have been because of his personality.”
“I am hardly agroupie,” Hex counters. “I have three young brothers for whom your Holiday has, against our best attempts at reminding them of the diplomatic ramifications,appealingaspects, and—” He heaves a bone-cracking sigh. “There is no salvaging my dignity from this, is there?”
Even in the low light, he’s blushing, and it’s so damn cute I hook my thumb in the waistband of his pants.
“You like my Holiday,” I say like I’m six and teasing him on a playground. “YouliiiiiikemyHolidaaaaay—”
“You should be more concerned by the fact that a Halloween Prince upstaged you in a fundamental tenet of modern Christmas traditions,” he tries.
I consider.
Then push my face against the side of his. “YouliiiiiikemyHolidaaaaay.”
He shoves against me, but it’s half-hearted. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re adorable.”
“And I think it’s time for popcorn,” Iris pipes in. “I’ll do it after all. Excuse me.”
She snatches the jar from Kris and ducks out of the room.
A beat of strained silence falls.
