19. Chapter 19 Traditions and Revelations

Chapter 19: Traditions and Revelations

J oy

The sunlight streaming through the blinds paints stripes across Grum’s green skin. I trace them lazily with a fingertip, enjoying how something so simple can be so beautiful. He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm.

“Morning, Tinsel Toes,” he rumbles, voice still rough with sleep.

“Tinsel Toes?” I giggle. “That’s a new one.” I recall how my insides trembled last night when he called me queen. I wonder if he even remembers.

He grins, tusks glinting. “I’m branching out, trying new nicknames. How about Garland Girl?”

“Absolutely not,” I laugh, swatting his chest playfully.

Grum pulls me closer, nuzzling into my hair. “Sparkle Sprite?”

“Getting warmer,” I murmur, tilting my head to give him better access as he trails kisses down my neck.

As we bask in the afterglow of last night, a question bubbles up. “Hey, Grum?” I ask, tracing patterns on his chest. “What were your winter holidays like back on An’Wa?”

He stills for a moment, then relaxes. “Different,” he says softly. “We had the Frost Fire Festival. Huge bonfires to ward off winter spirits. The whole clan would gather, sharing stories and meals.”

“That sounds beautiful,” I whisper, trying to picture it.

Grum nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “There was also the Winter Hunt. A big communal effort to bring down the largest game we could find. The meat would feed everyone through the coolest months.”

He sounds wistful as he adds, “We also had frost painting. Each clan would create elaborate designs using special pigments that caught the light like ice crystals. The paintings would last until the snow melted, making the whole village sparkle.”

“That sounds magical,” I breathe, trying to picture the shimmering artwork.

Grum nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “It was. The youngest children would always get more paint on themselves than the ground, but that was part of the tradition too.”

As he speaks, something cold and bitter settles in my stomach. Here I’ve been, babbling on about Christmas for weeks, and I never once asked about his traditions. Guilt washes over me in waves.

“Grum, I’m so sorry,” I blurt out.

He frowns, confused. “For what?”

“For being so… selfish. Self-centered. I’ve been talking nonstop about Christmas, and I never even thought to ask about your holidays. You were right when you said humans don’t understand you. Why haven’t I learned more about you and your people?” Tears prick at my eyes. “I’m a terrible person.”

Grum cups my face, his amber eyes serious. “Hey, none of that. You’re not terrible. You’re just passionate about something you love. That’s one of the things I admire about you.”

I sniffle, unconvinced. “But I should have asked. Should have thought about your feelings.”

He kisses me softly. “You’re asking now, aren’t you? Better late than never, sweet.”

Despite his reassurance, the guilt lingers. An idea forms, and I sit up abruptly. “I need to go to the community center early.”

Grum raises an eyebrow. “The toy giveaway isn’t for hours. We got everything wrapped yesterday.”

“I know, but…” I hesitate, not wanting to give away my plan. “There’s something I need to do. To make things right.”

He studies me for a moment, then nods. “Alright. Want company?”

I shake my head, already scrambling for clothes. “No, you rest. I’ll see you there later.”

As I dress, Grum watches me as though I’m a puzzle he needs to figure out. “You know you don’t have to fix everything all at once, right?”

Pausing at the door, I look back at him, sprawled across the bed looking unfairly gorgeous. “Maybe not,” I admit. “But I can try.”

He chuckles. “That’s my Tinsel Toes. Always on a mission.”

I blow him a kiss before dashing out, mind already whirling with ideas that quickly become plans. I have a lot to do in just a few hours if I’m going to make this work.