'Merry Christmas, Remy.' Thirteen mumbles sarcastically to herself before downing another shot, the alcohol burning her throat.

'You want something else, Thirteen?' The bartender, Wade, yells over the loud music.

'To wish you a merry Christmas and to thank you for being open! And while you're at it, refill, please.'

'You got it. This one's on the house. And merry Christmas to you too.' He refills and goes to another costumer.

'Remy?' Thirteen hears a woman yell over the music.

Oh, fuck. Let it not be an ex. I'll take that as my Christmas present. Just don't let it be an ex. Thirteen prays in her head.

'Remy?' Someone grabs her shoulder and turns her around.

Oh God. This is even worse!

'I thought that was you.'

'H-hey, Allison. How are ya?'

Oh, for fuck's sake, just because I have a crush on her doesn't mean I suddenly get a stutter!

The blonde sits next to her and orders her drink.

'I'm good, thanks. What about you? What are you doing here at Christmas Eve?'

'I'm great. And this is my regular bar. What 'bout ya?'

'It's one of the few bars open on Christmas' Eve.' She swallows her drink and orders a refill. She lifts the now filled glass and says. 'To a merry Christmas.'

Thirteen clings their glasses.

'To a merry Christmas.'

'Wanna go back to my place?' Cameron asks out of the blue.


Cameron runs her hand up and down the brunette's thigh.

'My place.' She leans in and runs her tongue over Thirteen's lower lip. 'What do you say, Remy?'

Thirteen presses their lips together and only breaks apart two minutes later.

'I say: merry Christmas fucking to me.'

'It's "merry fucking Christmas to me".'

'Not to me, it isn't.'

Cameron laughs and pays for both of them before grabbing Thirteen's hand and taking her outside. She crashes their lips together again.

'I like you.'

'I like you too, Allison.'

'Let's have a Christmas fucking.'

'Hell, yeah.'