A/N:

Just something that wouldn't leave my head all morning long.

The lights are warm, a softly luminous topaz color, tinsel messily strung in rivets of red, green and gold and food is heaped high on silver platters.

Miku's annual Christmas party is as beautiful and successful as always. But like every other year, all Miki finds herself wanting to do is to just go home and curl up under the covers of her bed, not having to worry about someone spiking her drink or spilling soy sauce on her dress.

Her dress, for this particular occasion, had costed a whole paycheck's worth; the rich, expensive silk garment decorated tastefully in a pale gold-leaf design. Miki was beginning to regret her decision to wear it tonight, not because of how she stood out as being far too formally dressed compared to the rest of her friends (Lily was wearing a skin-tight metallic silver dress so short you could practically see her pantsu), but because although Miku is as careful as always with the alcohol limit (no hard spirits allowed), there are still people tipsy and sloshed as there always are at any big party. The possibility that someone will smuggle in a flask of vodka or the sort is inevitable (Miki suspects Meiko, if not Bruno). Really, a dress this expensive should see better days.

Miki spends most of her night chewing on tidbits of the large spread of food available, everything from chicken to pudding to peppermint humbugs. She also spends a good bit of it hastily pulling the ruffled hem of her dress away from anyone who might spill a drink or puke on it.

It's safe to say that this particular Christmas will not be one of Miki's favorites. There's nothing about this night that will be memorable for years to come.

Deciding that she is tired of the rowdy atmosphere and that it's late enough to head home without seeming too impolite, Miki begins making her way to the "coat room" (Miku's study with a single clothes rail in it) to fetch her coat and bag.

She breathes a sigh of relief as she exits the basement where the party was being held, the absence of loud music and even louder conversations a blessing to her ears.

Pushing open the door of the study, she groans in annoyance seeing the fifty or so coats thrown haphazardly onto the floor, on the clothes rail, even on Miku's bookcase. It'll take forever to find hers amongst the forty-nine other similar-looking black coats. If only she'd kept it with her instead of giving it to Miku's "doorman" (Kaito) to put away.

She's about to try and pick her way through the fabric-ridden floor when she's startled by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Miki." Yuuma emerges from underneath a particularly large pile of coats, his hair comically ruffled and sporting a rather loud green t-shirt with a reindeer on it. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he grins at her. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Looking for my coat," she says distractedly, nudging at the pile of winter jackets, sweaters and scarves on the ground, "I'm going home." Suddenly curious, she takes a second, longer look at him. "Why are you in here all by yourself? Shouldn't you be in the basement getting drunk on Bruno's secret supply of tequila or something?"

Yuuma laughs easily. Plopping himself down on the ground, he pulls the cushion from Miku's armchair and made himself comfortable before looking up at Miki sheepishly."Yeah, about that. . . I kind of already did. That's why I hid in here, to try and sleep it off." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "I think it worked. I feel reasonably sober now."

Nodding, Miki returns to her hopeless search, watching him from the corner of her eye as her fingers pick up and discard coat after coat, turning the room into an even bigger mess than it was before.

Truth be told, she's always had a teeny, tiny, eenie meenie microscopic crush on Yuuma. Maybe it was his sense of humor, or his easy-going personality – or maybe it is just those inordinately pretty gold eyes of his, but Miki has more often than not found herself blushing furiously around him, twirling her hair or blinking shyly in his direction. Even now, just being in the same room as him, feeling his presence only a few feet away from her, she can feel her heart beating slightly faster than usual.

Miki moves closer to Yuuma until she was only a few feet away, sifting through the seemingly never-ending array of coats thrown in a heap on Miku's desk.

"Need some help?" Yuuma's voice causes her to jump. She hadn't realized that he'd gotten so close to her, the soft tread of his feet masked by the thick-carpeted floor. Turning her head, she finds herself almost nose-to-nose with the (no longer bleary-eyed and instead very much wide-awake) boy, her gaze instantly drawn to his alluringly beautiful eyes.

"U-uhm." Miki swallows nervously and starts to take a step back, but soon finds out that his hands have grabbed onto her arms in a firm but gentle grip. Her heart starts racing furiously as she sees him tilt his head slightly, angling his lips towards hers. "Yuuma, what are you doing?" her voice came out breathless and slightly shaky.

Yuuma on the other hand, seems nothing but amused. And maybe a little nervous. "Mistletoe." He points to a spot above their heads, not taking his eyes off hers.

She looks up. There's no mistletoe there. "Um, Yuuma? There's no mistletoe."

He grins. "Yes there is. Look again."

She knows that there couldn't be any mistletoe there, unless it had somehow magically appeared within the last few seconds of him speaking to her. But Yuuma keeps grinning expectantly so she rolls her eyes at him, finally settling on humoring him.

She glances up once more. Surprise, surprise, there's still no mistletoe. But as she tilts her head up to look at the ceiling, Yuuma leans down quickly, pressing his warm, slightly chapped lips against hers.

It's brief, the kiss, because Miki's surprised and pulls away out of instinct, but she doesn't bother to remove Yuuma's hands from her arms. Instead, she stares at him wide-eyed, until he blinks and pulls his hands away.

Leaning forward to kiss her softly on the cheek, he smiles before picking a coat from the very far corner of the room and tossing it to her. She catches it, still stunned.

Yuuma turns to look at her before he leaves the room, heading back downstairs to the party. He winks and smiles, his gold eyes crinkling at the corners. "Merry Christmas, Mii-chan."

Perhaps this Christmas will be a memorable one, after all.

A/N:

February 9, 2013:

Edited the tenses. Thank you Nerumi H and Strawberry Kitty! X3