*this is so angsty! i'm not sure yet if i'm going to leave it at this and say adieu to happy holidays. let me know what you thought about it and i'll try my hardest to decide. oh, and i'm sorry for breaking my pinky promise and taking so damn long to write this! i hope you enjoyed it, and will leave me a review! thank youuuu.*

He didn't hear her as she entered the room. For a moment she just stood there, in the doorway, watching him from behind. The way he looked when he didn't think anyone was there, it was different somehow from the way he held himself around everyone else. Calmer, more real. More who he was, Susan thought. There was a simplicity of some kind in the way he looked putting pen to paper, the dim lamplight washing over the golden hair falling in his face. Shadows danced on the walls, but Peter was so engrossed in whatever it was he writing that he failed to notice. Everything seemed wonderful in that moment and Susan didn't want to bother it, didn't want to disrupt the perfection of the moment, so much so that she contemplated leaving just so that she could look back on it later without regret for what might happen if she let herself tap him on the shoulder and catch his attention.

A clock ticked the seconds and minutes off, somewhere in the room; Susan couldn't see it. She brushed her hair behind her ears and tried to muster up the courage to say something, or clear her throat. Anything to announce her arrival. But she couldn't. She couldn't remember anything ever being as hard as this. Something about the way Peter looked...it made it seem impossible, maybe even wrong to try. Susan knew that tomorrow would be even more difficult, and it would build up day after day, until it really was impossible to even be near one another. It had happened before, with all of her family. And eventually they made up, unable to stand not speaking for more than a few days. This felt different, though. She truly felt as though she'd done something awful, that needed apologizing for now or never. Tomorrow would be too late, and besides, she wanted to thank him for the beautiful gift. Why, though, she wondered, had he taken it out from under the tree? That had been puzzling her all evening. Did he consider not giving it to her? It was killing her, thinking about it.

That was what got to her finally. Ever so slightly, she coughed into her fisted palm, shaking her dark hair out over her face in an attempt to try and hide how embarrassed she looked. Peter turned around in his chair right away, sweeping his letter-writing things off the desk and into an open drawer as he went. Susan noticed that he looked uneasy, as well. "Oh, Susan" he said, that kind of monotone people get when they're surprised and all the thoughts float right out of their heads. It usually goes along with the blank stare, but thankfully
Peter wasn't that far gone yet. Susan didn't say anything back; she wasn't sure if she could. Her throat was a little tight and it felt painfully dry. Her eyes felt really wet, though, and she was sure that they would overflow at any moment. She knew Peter would see; of course he could tell. He was always the most observant Pevensie. If he did notice, though, he kindly said nothing as Susan struggled to control herself. "God, I'm such an oaf," she said, her voice thick, wiping the edge of one eye with her thumb. "Why am I always so stupid?"

"Yeah, I've been wondering about that for years" Peter said, the edges of his mouth pulling up into a smile. Susan laughed, pulling her hair off of her forehead. He always knew how to make her laugh, how to make her feel better. That was one of the things that made him such a great brother to all of them. "Shut up" she said, jokingly. She knew she didn't have to say anything else; this was enough. There was no need for an apology anymore. Brushing her hair back over her forehead again, Susan padded lightly into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the box. "The reason I came was to ask you about this" she said, taking a deep breath. "Peter, how did you get back? I've been looking for a way forever and..."

It was Peter's turn now to look sheepish. "Actually...," he said, "That's how I found it. I was sneaking around in the wardrobe, trying not to let you guys know, y'know?" Susan nodded, signaling him to go on. "But...I never did find a way in. I think it's closed forever, Suse." Here he hung his head for a moment in silence. "When I was in there, in the wardrobe, one of the doors fell open somehow, I guess I hadn't quite closed it, and I saw something glinting way in the back, where those really ugly coats are?" She nodded again. "So I opened the doors all the way and crawled back there, and there it was, caught on a coat sleeve, that matted gray coat, you know the one. The last on the right. And I meant to give it to you, but I didn't have a present, and I got to thinking that it would be so much nicer this way...What I guess I mean to say is, I'm sorry. For holding onto it so long without telling you."

"Sorry?," Susan repeated incredulously, practically doing a double take. "Peter, I'm thanking you. The necklace is wonderful. It's the best present I've ever gotten. I can't believe you're sorry! God, you really can be thick sometimes, can't you?" "That's me" Peter agreed, and they both broke into laughter again. "There is one thing, though." Susan said, almost as an afterthought. "Oh?" "Yeah. Why'd you take it out from under the tree? I remember seeing it there before, and then it was gone this morning..." Peter didn't answer her for a minute. Then, "I dunno," he said, his face a little distant. "I guess I kind of thought you might think it was weird, it being jewellry and everything, but maybe I was just feeling guilty about not giving it to you before. I was kind of going crazy thinking you'd be mad at me for keeping it all this time." Susan shook her head, smiling.

"Stupid. It's good to know, though. I thought maybe you were planning on not giving it to me because you were mad, or...because of, well, you know. I don't know. It doesn't matter, anyway, now." Susan shrugged, a little embarrassed, thinking back on Christmas Eve. She shook herself off, mentally, coming up fresh with renewed cheeriness in her voice. " Anyway, I couldn't get the wankering clasp undone. Do you think you could do it for me, so I can try it on?" The box was in her palm, stretched out towards Peter now. "I think I can do you one better" he said, pushing himself up out of the chair with a groan, his back popping. "Here, hold this" he said, handing the box back to Susan, then sitting down beside her on the little bed. "What were you writing, anyway?"

"Oh, just a letter to Mum. To let her know we're alright and everything." He shrugged, taking the necklace out of the box in Susan's hand and turning a little to get the right angle. "Oh" Susan said, half an acknowledgement and half surprise as the cold silver chain hit her neck, along with Peter's warm hands. She could feel him struggle to clasp it, his fingers fumbling along her nape. Blood pumped through her body as her heart pounded hard. The room seemed to close in a little bit, and she could really sense just how close they were to one another. Susan was careful to keep her back straight, not moving as much as she could help it. Finally she heard the little metallic click sound in the dead silent room, letting her know the necklace was safely on. She was free to move away, but she didn't really want to. For a moment they just breathed, Susan's shoulders lifting up under Peter's hands, sinking, lifting up again. Soon she was close to being unable to control herself, not even caring, not even remembering that the door was still open, Lucy and Edmund right down the hall.

Peter's hands were trembling, his breath hot on her neck as he slid his hands up, into her hair, twirling it around his fingers. "Mmmm" Susan whispered, almost inaudibly, just a rush of breath. Then she turned around, running her hand along Peter's neck, over his jaw, resting her palm on his smooth cheek. "Su" he said, his bright eyes looking right into her. Susan pulled him closer, the delicate necklace pushed against Peter's chest as she laid her head on his shoulder, face turned toward his neck, breathing in the scent of him. Soap, lavender, cinnamon. A quick tear slid down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it off, turning her head a little so she could catch it before it hit his shirt. Before any more could escape, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his. Peter's lips were so soft. They kissed for a moment. Susan kept her eyes closed almost the whole time, only opening them once as she deepened the kiss and pulled Peter closer, to find that his blue eyes were still watching her. His hand slid into her hair again, the front this time, tangling it. Susan felt his tongue slide into her mouth. When she broke away from him she found that they were lying down, arms wrapped around one another.

"I have to go" she said, the rest of the world filtering back in one bit at a time. The lamplight, the shadows, the cotton sheets all crumpled up, her little sister's laughter from somewhere outside. "Yeah" Peter agreed, still stretched out on his back on the bed as Susan sat up, checking the necklace with one hand, balancing with the other. She held loosely onto the pendant, tracing over the petals, not leaving, just standing beside the bed now, trying not to let any sobs escape her lips. Trying to gather herself together again so she could leave the room alright. It was a losing battle, though. Her head was turned away but Peter still heard her crying. "Susan..." he said, the distress plain in his voice. He thought he had done something wrong, Susan could tell. She resisted as he pulled on her wrist, trying to make her face him. Finally she gave in, let him see her tear-stained face, pull her down beside him again. Peter kissed her softly again, once, twice, shortly. He kissed her once more, and she leaned in, desperate to kiss him back, but with everything inside her she lifted her arms and pushed him away. He looked lost. "Can't you see that just makes it worse?" Susan said, quietly but harshly. She saw the hurt on his face. "I'm sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked badly, but she didn't resist when he covered her hand with his. It hurt so much, like she would burst.

After a minute she managed to collect herself somewhat. Still holding onto the flower, she walked to the doorway, her fingers slowly slipping out from under her brother's warm palm. She meant to leave without saying anything, but she couldn't help herself. She didn't look back, just said, "Good night." Peter's voice was hoarse. "Night, Suse. Happy Christmas. Don't cry cause it's over, there's always next year." It was what their Mum always said on Christmas before she put them to bed, when they would get upset and sad because the fun was over, when they were home, in London. When things were like they used to be. A sob wracked her body, practically breaking her ribs open, so powerful she had to bend over to control it. "Bye" she whispered, and walked back down the cold, empty hall towards her room, the lamplight leaking out after her, darkness swallowing her thin form the farther away she got. The fun was over now, and tomorrow everything would weigh down on her again, ten times worse than before. "Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays." she thought bitterly, trying not to turn and go back, fingers toying with the charm around her neck all the while.