Chapter Nine

~Olivia~

December had arrived, and the Barcelona streets were covered in decorative lights. The Catalans loved La Natividad, which was apparent in their decorating.

Gerard had invited her over to decorate his place, and they put his iPod on the speakers playing random carols. Some were in English, and many in Spanish. There were also pop renditions of some of the more traditional songs by current musicians.

Once the songs began to repeat, they switched to his general playlist, and random songs began to issue forth.

She was setting up a small nativity scene on the entrance table as Gerard hung ornaments on the tree. She smiled as one of her favorite songs came up, surprised it was on his list of songs.

Those fingers in my hair
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscious bare
It’s witchcraft

She swayed to the music, humming along as she placed the figurine of Joseph behind the manger, turning him to the correct angle.

And I’ve got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do

She glanced over at Gerard, and was surprised to find him looking at her. It was a ‘come hither stare’, she was sure. Suddenly the lyrics began to capture her attention more closely.

‘Cause it’s witchcraft, wicked witchcraft
And although, I know, it’s strictly taboo

Their eyes were still locked as the trumpets and strings continued the slow, alluring melody.

When you arouse the need in me
My heart says yes indeed in me
Proceed with what you’re leading me to

She set down the figurine of baby Jesus, and slowly walked over to where he was. He smiled, and pulled her into a slow dance. They swayed to the music in silence.

It’s such an ancient pitch
But one I wouldn’t switch
‘Cause there’s no nicer witch than you

As their lips met, she couldn’t help but notice the irony. Gerard had bewitched her. No other had made her so love struck, especially in such a short amount of time. But she knew her feelings weren’t just passing. The Christmas lights illuminated the room in a gentle glow as they continued to dance slowly, decorations abandoned.

“There’s no nicer witch than you,” she sang softly. “Or sexier,” he supplied. She laughed, and swatted his arm lightly before leaning her head against his chest.

And I’ve got no defense for it…, she mused.

~Aina~

“Come on, Cesc, hurry up,” she said, dragging the male behind her.

She looked down at the piece of paper, double checking she had the correct address, and then rang the doorbell. Several seconds passed before the door opened, and a very stunned woman was revealed.

“I was wondering if James was here…I have a Christmas present I’d like to give to him, if that’s alright,” Aina said with a smile, Cesc standing reassuringly behind her with a passive smile on his features as well. She nodded numbly, and stepped aside to let them in.

James was sitting in the living room, watching the Manchester United vs. Bolton match.

“Sweetie, you have visitors,” his mother called. He turned, and his jaw dropped upon seeing them. “Hey again, James,” Aina said, smiling brightly at him. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Aina,” he replied politely. “Just Aina, please,” she said, walking closer.
She held out the bag, “I got you a Christmas present. If it’s ok with your mom, I’d like for you to open it early though.”

He looked excitedly over at the older woman, who nodded, still in disbelief. His eyes lit up, and he eagerly tore out the tissue paper from the bag. His jaw dropped as he pulled out the green jersey. He showed it to his mom, who smiled tearfully at him. He realized there was more, and found the Arsenal jersey with all of the signatures of it. He turned to Cesc, and beamed. “Thank you Mr. Fàbregas!”

Cesc returned the warm smile, “Just Cesc, and it was my pleasure.”

“There’s more?” James asked Aina as he realized there was still weight in the bag. She nodded, eyes glowing. He reached in, and pulled out the second Barcelona jersey.

“Is that…that’s Messi’s signature. The Barcelona players signed this for me?” he asked incredulously.

“They did,” she replied, “and they told me to tell you Merry Christmas for them.” She smiled as he held out his hands for a hug, and pulled him into a gentle embrace, crouching by his side.
“What does that say?” he asked, pointing to one of the messages.

She laughed, “Not all of them know English. It says ‘I’m glad to have a fan like you supporting the club. People like you make what we do possible.’”

They stayed and talked with James and his mom for several hours before at last departing.

“That was really kind of you,” Cesc said, taking her hand in his. They walked back toward his condo, which wasn’t horribly far away. Both were bundled up, enjoying the Christmas spirit that was decorating the streets.

Suddenly Cesc came to a stop, effectively stopping her as well.

“What’s going on?” she asked, turning around.

“Mistletoe,” he said, pointing up to a bunch of greenery that was hovering above them. “So?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Here there’s a tradition…you kiss under mistletoe,” he explained nervously.

She arched a brow, “Why?” He shrugged, “I have no idea, but the guys told me about it. They always hang it up when their girlfriends come to visit around Christmastime.” “So the idea is to kiss under the mistletoe?” she asked, making sure she got the idea right. He nodded, licking his lips.

“I guess I could uphold that one,” she said, smiling at him.
He leaned down almost immediately, pressing his lips to hers. It was brief, and very light. He pulled back gauging her reaction.

“I think I really like this tradition, pointless as it may be,” she announced, and pulled him down for another kiss, the second one longer, and more intense. “I’m rethinking returning to Barcelona if I get to do this,” he murmured. She chuckled, “If you kiss like that every time, you don’t need an excuse to do it.”

She then laughed as he planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, and wiped at it. “Cesc!” she exclaimed as he attempted it again. She turned and ran back toward his condo.

He simply caught up to her, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, planting an even sloppier kiss on her other cheek. “Gross,” she whined, relaxing back into his chest. He chuckled, and placed a lighter kiss on her temple. “You know you love it,” he teased. “It’s as mysterious to me as this whole mistletoe tradition,” she conceded, sticking her tongue out at him. “The picture of maturity, Aina,” he laughed. “I learned from the best,” she smirked. “Who?” “Geri!”

They both laughed as they resumed walking, once again with fingers laced.