Making new memories

Severa's POV

The hotel room had never felt this warm before.

Maybe it was the glow of the Christmas lights we had strung up along the windows, twinkling softly against the evening darkness. Maybe it was the scent of cinnamon and vanilla from the candles I had lit earlier. Or maybe—just maybe—it was Eugene, sitting beside me on the couch, his presence filling the space like it belonged there.

We had spent the entire afternoon wandering through the town center, buying last-minute gifts, snacks, and ingredients for tomorrow's Christmas Eve dinner. The town was busier than usual, filled with tourists and locals making their final holiday preparations. The festive atmosphere had somehow eased my mind after what happened earlier with Lucien, but now that the day was ending, my thoughts were creeping in again.

Eugene and I had already developed a habit of having dinner together, but tonight felt… different. The air was quieter, heavier, like there was something lingering in the silence. I didn't know if it was because of his confession the night before or because I still hadn't fully processed what he told me about that summer ten years ago.

Now, we were here, back in my hotel room, curled up on the couch with a blanket thrown over our legs, watching Home Alone while sharing fries, a fruit platter, and a bottle of wine.

Eugene let out a small chuckle beside me. "That should've killed the guy," he muttered, pointing at the screen where one of the burglars had just fallen down the stairs in the most exaggerated way possible.

I smirked. "Honestly, if this was real life, they'd both be in the ICU by now."

Eugene reached for a fry, dipping it in cheese before popping it into his mouth. "You ever tried pulling pranks like that as a kid?"

I raised a brow. "Do I look like the type?"

He grinned. "I don't know. Maybe against your brothers?"

I snorted. "Sebastian and Sevin would've turned it against me. Trust me, I never stood a chance."

Eugene laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I can see that."

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He looked so… at ease. The Eugene I remembered from ten years ago had always carried a sharpness to him—like he was always bracing for a fight. But now, in the dim light of my hotel room, with a glass of wine in his hand and a lazy smirk on his lips, he looked softer.

Safer.

And that terrified me.

I reached for my own wine glass, trying to shake the thought away.

"You know," he mused, staring at the screen, "this reminds me of that summer."

I stiffened slightly. "Which part?"

"The nights we'd sneak out."

I scoffed. "*You* snuck out. I was just dragged into it."

He smirked. "You didn't complain much."

I rolled my eyes. "Because I was stupid."

"Or because you had fun."

I didn't answer right away.

Because he wasn't wrong.

That summer—before everything fell apart—had been the first time I'd ever felt free. Late-night bike rides, sneaking out to the lake, stealing mangoes from the neighbor's tree. It was reckless and childish and fleeting.

And then it was gone.

I swallowed, staring down at my glass. "I used to wish I never met you."

Eugene didn't flinch, but I saw the way his fingers tightened slightly around his glass. "I deserved that."

I exhaled. "But I also know I wouldn't be who I am today if that summer never happened."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and unspoken.

Then Eugene let out a soft chuckle. "You know what's funny?"

I glanced at him. "What?"

"This summer was hell for both of us."

I smirked. "That's not funny."

He shook his head. "No, I mean—" He gestured vaguely. "That summer was when we broke apart, and now… here we are. Making new memories. In winter."

I scoffed. "Eugene, we live in a tropical country. There is no winter."

He grinned. "Okay, fine. Christmas season."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny the warmth that spread through my chest.

Because he was right.

That summer had been painful. But now, in the middle of December, sitting in a hotel room with fries, wine, and an old Christmas movie, we were creating something new.

And for the first time in a long while, I wasn't sure if I wanted to stop.

I shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around my legs. "You know, I never actually got to ask you," I started. "If you didn't betray me that summer, do you think we would've lasted?"

Eugene went still.

I wasn't sure why I was even asking. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the nostalgia. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time in ten years, I wasn't running away from the past.

Eugene let out a slow breath. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I do know one thing."

I tilted my head. "What?"

"I wouldn't have regretted it."

A lump formed in my throat. "You regret betraying me?"

He didn't hesitate. "Every single day."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

So I just took a sip of my wine, focusing on the screen, pretending my chest wasn't tightening.

A comfortable silence settled between us again, the sounds of Home Alone filling the room.

Then Eugene leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs. "By the way, I got you a present."

I blinked. "You what?"

He smirked. "You'll have to wait until Christmas Eve."

I frowned. "That's tomorrow."

"Exactly."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "I didn't get you anything."

"Liar."

I scowled. "I didn't."

Eugene gave me a knowing look. "Severa Yllanna Frierez-Medici, you are the type to pretend you don't care, but I know you got me something."

I froze.

It wasn't the playful accusation that caught me off guard. It was the way he said my full name—so smoothly, so naturally, as if he had known it all along.

I never told him my complete name. Not once.

How the hell did he know?

I opened my mouth, ready to ask, but then I stopped myself.

Something in the way he was looking at me—calm, relaxed, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb—made me pause.

Maybe he heard it from someone. Maybe he found out when he was digging into my family's land. Maybe… maybe it didn't matter right now.

I pushed down my questions and exhaled slowly. "We'll see."

Eugene just chuckled, leaning his head back. "Merry Christmas, Sev."

I stared at him for a moment.

Then, despite myself, I smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Eugene."