This was taking too long, was she even home?

Moira licked her lips anxiously and shuffled her feet. Just when she picked her hand up to ring the doorbell again, the door swung open.

There her mum stood, wearing a bathrobe with her hair soaking wet, and the first thing she noticed were her teary eyes and flushed cheeks. She still looked gorgeous in her current state, and before she could even utter a word, she let out a low sob and pulled Moira in for a tight hug, her arms pulling her tightly against her.

"Oh my darling, I missed you!" She sobbed hysterically, holding Moira painfully tight against her, "Sorry for taking so long to open up, I was in the shower."

After a few moments she pulled away to gaze into her face, pulling a few strands of Moira's blonde hair from her face. Emelia's face looked pained when she stared at her.

"Mom calm down, you saw me a week ago."

"It feels like a lifetime."

"You're exaggerating."

Her mother laughed heartily and pulled her into the house, closing the door behind them. Her childhood home felt so warm now that she felt the temperature difference. Moira remembered her luggage so she quickly went outside to get it.

Arriving back inside, she gazed around, noticing the changes. There were fairy lights everywhere, a Christmas tree in the corner, even a mistletoe was hung from the ceiling. And was that the smell of gingerbread coming from the kitchen? Her stomach grumbled in anticipation at the thought of her mother's Christmas cookies.

"Honey?" Emelia's voice brought her out of her daze, and she looked concerned. "Have you been sleeping enough? You look awful."

"Gee, thanks mom." She grumbled. "I've just been a little off lately."

She reached for her bump, "Oh dear, is the baby alright?"

Moira shrugged her off, "Ollie's fine, you know he is."

She didn't reply; she only watched with guarded eyes as Moira shrugged off her coat and sat on the couch, leaning over to slide off her Chelsea boots. Throwing her legs sideways to lean back against the couch; her face erupted into an exhausted expression, her eyes drifting closed.

"Everything tires me out," She sighed. "I can barely stand for 5 minutes."

"That's pregnancy." Her mother sat down beside her, lifting Moira's legs to avoid sitting on them and placing them on her lap, patting her shin softly. "Just two more months, darling."

"I know, I know. I'm not complaining, I'm just tired."

"Good thing you're here then," She exclaimed. "So you can let your mother pamper you."

"That, " Moira admitted shamelessly. "And I wouldn't dare spending the holidays without my mommy."

"Ohh, you!" Emelia wrapped an arm around her daughter and pulled her in for a hug. Her mother smelled flowery and sweet, like home. "Now stay here and relax, I need to finish getting dressed."

She disappeared up the stairs and left Moira on her own.

She gazed at the Christmas tree in the corner. A tree that was much too large to fit inside the small home. Her mother's house was a simple, small, two story affair, with nothing more than a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. It was all that they could afford years ago, and really all that they'd needed besides each other. And now that Moira no longer lived at home, the size was even less of a problem. She'd offered buying her mother a house, since she was practically loaded. But her mother kindly refused the offer.

Still, the tree filled the room and made it almost feel as if one were living within a forest. Honestly, it was hard to figure out how a tree so large might even have been squeezed through any of the doors or windows to get it inside, or how its peak kept from punching through the low ceiling above it.

A visitor might look, squint, look again, rub his eyes, and look again, trying to make sense of exactly how a tree so large could fit into a space so tiny, yet clearly it had, so eventually there was nothing more to do but to accept it. A visitor would think just that, if she ever entertained any visitors beside her daughter.

Moira languished on the couch, admiring the tree. Suddenly, a certain someone crept into her head. She wondered what Harraël was doing this Christmas Eve. Was he with family? The band? Female company? The latter made a sinking feeling arise in the pit of her stomach. And she far from liked it.

Weeks had gone by since they last spoke. And though he had tried including her in his life, she kept her distance. She missed him, his god awful jokes and how full of life he made her feel. But she refused to run back to him. It was too late anyway, he'd probably gotten tired of chasing her. And who could blame him, really?

She was sure his nice behaviour was to blame on him pitying her: a single mom-to-be with hardly any friends, who dressed like she was constantly angry.

Unlike others, she didn't just have herself to protect from men with bad intentions: Her baby as well. She couldn't let Ollie get attached to someone when that someone could decide to step out of their lives at any given moment. She would shield her child from such fate.

Rather no father figure than a bad one.

But god damn it, she really did miss him.

It was then that her phone buzzed from her pocket, signalling she had a new message from: 'Harry'.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

- Merry Christmas, babe!! Hope to see u soon XH -

Chuckling bitterly, she tossed her phone away from her, knowing it would land on a soft surface.

'Why are you so nice? Stop being nice! It's making avoiding you so much harder.' She wanted to call him up and scream at him.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her prominent belly and her forehead on the palms of hands. So distracted, and deep in thought that she hadn't heard her mother descending the stairs.

"Moira?"

"Hmm?"

"You want tea?"

"Yes, please."

They ventured off to the kitchen, Emelia filled and turned on the kettle while Moira grabbed two mugs, some honey and two bags of Yogi tea. Once they were done, they simultaneously took a seat at the dinner table. Waiting for the water to boil, in silence. Some time later, two mugs of steaming hot tea was sitting in front of both of them. They drank contently and munched on the gingerbread cookies her mother had put on the table.

"So," Emelia began. "How's Jamie doing?"

Moira's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Who's Jamie?"

Shooting her an angry look, Emelia exclaimed: "Your maternity trainer! Don't tell me you put your responsibilities aside?"

"Ooh uhh him, right, he's good." She muttered, quickly taking a sip of her tea. "But uhh, I haven't seen him in a while."

"Moira Mae King!"

You know shit's about to go down when Emelia calls her daughter by her full name.

"Calm down, mom. I attended two classes, it just didn't help much. Only caused my feet to hurt more. Playing with yoga balls and calling it fitness is not my thing. Working out in general is not my thing."

"How will you stay fit?!" Her mother groaned in frustration, "Good Heavens, what am I going to do with you."

"It's not a big deal. I can handle myself, I'm a grown woman."

Quietly nodding her head, Emelia dropped the subject and picked another cookie to dip in her tea..

That's how they spent the next two days, eating, enjoying each other's company and exchanging presents. Celebrating Christmas as a family of two and a half.