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    Thorn Wilde
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Family Ties - 1. Family Ties

Contains sadness, but also fluff. And Christmas.

‘To Stephen!’ Rebecca raised her glass, as did the other teachers. School was out for Christmas, and she had splurged on a few bottles of Prosecco for a quick farewell drink for the staff. It wasn’t something she would normally do, but today was Stephen’s last day. ‘May you prosper in your new job.’

‘Hear, hear!’ said Morton, who taught Maths. ‘Live long and prosper!’ Laughter rose from the assembled staff.

They all raised their glasses and drank. Stephen smiled around at them. ‘Thank you, all. I’m sad to leave you, but adventure beckons.’

The staff had been very supportive after Stephen had been outed the previous summer. When he had returned after the summer holidays, most of the parents and pupils had forgotten, or perhaps just got used to the idea. Still, it had been a trying term, with many parents still refusing to let Stephen teach their children. Some had transferred their kids elsewhere. Now that Stephen and Lewis were moving on the new year, applying for work closer to their new home had seemed a better idea than trying to stick it out here. He hated to let them win, and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have to go through the same thing in his new job, but he was willing to take that chance, and it would be good to be rid of the stress and anxiety of his current situation.

The gathered party soon broke off into smaller groups, and Stephen found himself standing with Parvati, the English Literature teacher, who he had come to learn was also gay, though single. She had not been outed to the school like Stephen, but had lent a sympathetic ear many times.

‘Looking forward to the wedding, then?’ she asked, smiling.

‘Oh yeah.’ Stephen grinned. ‘I can’t wait. Far as I know, we’ll be among the first. Lewis had it scheduled as quickly as he could.’ He sighed happily. ‘I know it’s just a slip of paper. It won’t change anything, not really. You don’t need to get married to commit. But . . . it’s like a symbol. You know?’

Parvati nodded. ‘I know. My friend Anica is the same. She and her fiancé have already lived like they were married for twenty years. They’re in a civil partnership. They’ve got a kid. But she said that getting married is an important symbol. It shows the world what an important victory this is.’

‘Yeah, that’s what Lewis said, once we’d gotten over the romanticism of it.’ He had another sip of his drink. ‘I’d do anything for him,’ he murmured, then blushed at having said it out loud.

‘Aww, bless!’ Parvati smiled and nudged his shoulder with her own. ‘I’m really happy for you, Stephen. And hey, new house!’

‘Yeah. It’s weird owning a house . . . Though, I guess, at the moment the bank owns most of it. Still, that’s a milestone too, buying a house together.’

‘A huge milestone, in my opinion.’ Parvati had a sip of Prosecco as well. ‘Any more significant milestones in your future?’ she asked innocently.

Stephen smiled, looking down into his glass. ‘Well . . . we do want to have kids. We want to adopt. Lewis loves kids. So do I, obviously. Doubt I’d’ve become a teacher if I didn’t like children.’

‘Oh, I dunno. Tristan doesn’t seem overly fond of them.’ Parvati glanced over at the ageing English Language teacher. Stephen laughed.

‘Anyway. We were thinking we’d start out trying to foster a kid. No nobler cause than that, right?’

‘None at all, in this context.’ Parvati put down her glass and hugged him. ‘Good luck, Stephen. I’m sure you’ll be very happy. You’ve earned it.’

* * *

The snow—or sleet, rather—had come and gone this December. Stephen stomped the slush off his boots on the doormat outside. This would be the last Christmas Lewis and he would spend in this house. They had moved in just before Christmas four years ago, the year they had met. Things had moved quickly. Everything had just felt right. That Christmas they had spent living out of boxes, no time to unpack everything before the celebrations began. Thankfully, they had celebrated at Stephen’s parents’ house that year. This year, they would do so again.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. ‘Lewis?’ There was no answer, which usually meant his fiancé was upstairs in the bedroom, working at his desk. Stephen took his time putting away the shopping, unwilling to disturb.

Their new house was significantly larger than this one. This house only had one bedroom, albeit a large one, while the new one had three. One of those would be turned into an office for Lewis, so he would no longer have to work in the bedroom. The other, hopefully, would soon belong to a child. They had talked about it a lot. They weren’t picky. They’d be happy to take in a child with special needs, an older child, a baby, it didn’t matter if it were a girl or a boy. They knew they would love it just the same, and since Lewis was self-employed and worked from home, caring for it wouldn’t be a problem. As far as Stephen was concerned, if you sign up to be a parent, you sign up for anything and everything that comes with it.

When he was done, Stephen went upstairs all the same. He knocked on the bedroom door.

‘Come in,’ said Lewis.

Stephen opened the door and stepped inside. Lewis sat at his laptop, but his drawing tablet lay on the desk next to him, stylus in place and screen dark. ‘Hey.’ Stephen approached and slid his arms around Lewis’s neck, kissing his cheek. ‘How was your day?’

‘All right.’ Lewis looked up at him and smiled. ‘You? How was your last day at work?’

‘Odd,’ said Stephen. ‘Some of my kids gave me a gift. Box of chocolates. Still, it was sweet. And I got a bottle of wine from work, plus Rebecca bought Prosecco for everyone and threw me a small farewell party. That’s why I’m back so late.’

‘Well,’ Lewis stood up, ‘only goes to show that they appreciated you, even if not all the parents did. They’ve lost a fantastic teacher, whether they know it or not.’ Stephen blushed and Lewis kissed him, slowly and for a long time. ‘How do you feel about it?’ he asked, stepping back.

Stephen shrugged. ‘Okay, I guess. I feel kind of bad for leaving my kids, but I guess I couldn’t stay there forever. Five years and a bit is a good innings.’

‘It is,’ Lewis agreed. ‘You’ve done well, love. Now, what’s for dinner?’

‘Lasagne, if you’ll make it. Otherwise, it’ll be frozen dinners. I got pizza and some pasta things. Or we could order a takeaway.’

Lewis sighed. ‘Work, work, work . . . What’s in it for me?’

‘Well, lasagne, for one.’ Stephen stepped in close and put his mouth next to Lewis’s ear. ‘And some fun after . . . I’ll do that thing you like.’

Lewis chuckled. ‘You’ll do that thing I like anyway.’

Stephen pulled back again, grinning. ‘Yes sir. But you’ll get that thing you like and lasagne. Also, I’ll do all the dishes. Please?’

Lewis laughed and shook his head. ‘Well, since you ask so nicely.’ He kissed Stephen again. ‘Come on, then. You’re gonna help me chop the onion.’

‘Ugh, you just like seeing me cry,’ said Stephen, pouting. Lewis only smirked and led him from the room, down into the kitchen.

* * *

Later that night, as they lay in each other’s arms in bed, Lewis said, ‘I’ve been thinking about something.’

‘Hm?’ Stephen blinked sleepily.

Lewis bit his lower lip. It was unlike him to be hesitant. ‘I want to try and contact my parents. Just . . . I dunno. Make peace, somehow. I’d like to invite them to the wedding. They probably won’t say yes, but . . . I still want to try.’

Stephen nodded slowly. ‘Are you sure?’

Lewis uttered a short laugh. ‘Not in the least. But I think I’m gonna do it anyway. I’ll . . . go to their house. A phonecall they can ignore, but if I actually go visit, maybe they’ll let me in. Christmas seems as good a time as any. People are . . . more charitable at Christmas.’

‘All right.’ Stephen kissed his chest. ‘I’ll support you no matter what you do, you know that.’

‘Thank you.’ Lewis smiled. ‘I was hoping you’d come with me.’

‘Of course. I’ll do whatever you need, Lewis.’ Stephen propped himself up on his elbow and looked into Lewis’s deep brown eyes. ‘Anything. I love you.’ Then they kissed.

Lewis sighed into the kiss. When it was over, he said, ‘I love you too.’ He took a deep breath. ‘We’ll go on Sunday.’

‘All right. Sunday it is.’

Kissing Stephen one more time, Lewis turned off the light and gently pushed Stephen over on his side so they could spoon. Stephen fell asleep with Lewis’s warm breath against the nape of his neck.

* * *

It had been an hour-long drive when they pulled up outside Lewis’s parents’ house. Stephen parked the car in the street and they remained sitting in it for a couple of minutes. Lewis was silent. Stephen reached over and squeezed his hand. They looked at each other and then got out of the car.

They walked slowly up the path to the front door, holding hands. When they reached the door, Stephen let go and stayed a little bit behind Lewis. Lewis took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later, the door opened. A man stood there. He looked a lot like Lewis, nearly as tall and with the same dark eyes, though his head was bald and he sported a salt and pepper beard, trimmed short. For a moment, he just stared. Then his brows furrowed and he made to step back and close the door again.

‘Dad, wait.’ Lewis blocked the door with his elbow. ‘Please.’

‘What are you doing here?’ the man asked coldly.

‘I . . . I wanted to see you.’ Lewis’s voice was smaller than Stephen had ever heard it. He hated that. Hated hearing Lewis’s confidence drained. Hated seeing how his strong, proud man slouched his shoulders and made himself smaller. ‘I just wanted to talk.’

‘Then talk.’

‘I just . . . I’m getting married.’

The man’s dark eyes shifted from Lewis’s face to Stephen’s for a brief moment, and his expression darkened further. ‘That’s not marriage! That’s sin! How dare you utter such blasphemy in this house?’ he hissed.

‘Technically, he’s not actually in your house,’ Stephen muttered. Lewis turned his eyes on him and gave him a stern look. Stephen lowered his gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’

Lewis sighed. ‘It’s all right.’ He looked at his supposed father again. ‘This is Stephen. My fiancé.’

It was clear that Lewis’s father wanted to slam the door in his face, but he stayed as he was. ‘Right.’

‘Please, can we come in and talk? Just . . . just for ten minutes, then we’ll leave, I promise.’

The elder Griffiths worked his jaw for a few moments, looking from one to the other of them. ‘Fine. You can come in, but he stays.’ He indicated Stephen with a nod of his head.

Lewis looked like he wanted to argue, but then seemed to change his mind. ‘Fine. Stephen . . . please wait in the car.’

Stephen did not argue. He squeezed Lewis’s shoulder and returned to the car, hearing the door close behind him. When he reached the car, he looked back. Lewis had gone inside.

He sat in the driver’s seat, fiddling with his phone. He knew how vulnerable a situation Lewis had placed himself in, and he couldn’t help but feel concerned.

Lewis was fantastic at dealing with other people’s emotions. He always knew what to say when Stephen was upset. He would always lend an ear to his friends, always support people, always take care of people. That was just the sort of man he was; caring, kind, calming. But Stephen had always suspected that Lewis wasn’t quite as good at dealing with his own emotions. He could soothe Stephen’s heart with a word and a touch, but was careless with his own. Stephen worried about what was happening in there, what Lewis’s father was saying to him. His mother too, perhaps. How Lewis would handle it.

After a few minutes, the door to the house opened again. Lewis strode out, the door slamming in his wake. He approached the car and got in. He didn’t look at Stephen, just stared straight ahead. He swallowed, worked his jaw.

‘Lewis . . .’ Stephen reached out to touch his hand.

Lewis shook his head sharply. ‘Just—just drive. I want to go home.’

Stephen nodded and did as he was told. They barely spoke all the way home. Lewis stared straight ahead at nothing the whole way. Stephen knew better than to ask him what had happened. It was clear that he needed to process it on his own before he would talk to Stephen about it. Whatever it was, it clearly hadn’t been good.

When they got home, they shed their coats and boots in the hall and Lewis walked into the kitchen. He sat down at the kitchen table, head in his hands, and sobbed. Stephen went to him at once, pulling up a chair next to him and putting his arm around his shoulder.

Everything was backwards. Lewis was the strong one. Lewis had all the answers. In all the time they had been together, Stephen had never seen him cry. Not like this. He’d tear up watching sad films sometimes, but that was different. This . . . this was grief.

When he had calmed down a little bit, Lewis looked up at Stephen. His eyes were red. Stephen kissed his forehead, then stood and fetched a roll of kitchen paper so Lewis could wipe his face and blow his nose. While he did so, Stephen put the kettle on, for want of anything else useful to do. He sat back down while it boiled.

‘What happened?’ he finally asked.

Lewis shook his head. ‘I asked if they’d like to come to the wedding. He laughed in my face . . . Then I asked where Mum was and he . . .’ Lewis drew a shuddering breath. ‘He told me she died.’

‘Oh, no . . . Lewis, I’m so sorry!’ Stephen took his fiancé’s hand and held it tightly in both of his.

‘She died a month ago. My mother died and nobody told me. I didn’t get to go to her funeral . . .’ Tears began to fall again, dripping off the end of Lewis’s nose and down onto the kitchen table. ‘Nobody, not my dad or my brothers or anybody, thought to contact me. I know they disowned me, I know they didn’t want anything to do with me, but this . . . I never thought they’d do something like this.’

‘Fuck them,’ Stephen growled.

‘Stephen!’ said Lewis weakly.

‘Yes, yes, you don’t like it when I swear. I don’t care right now. I can’t believe they’d do this to you! That your father would do this to his own son . . . So, fuck him, and your brothers, and anyone else who could have told you but didn’t. I can’t . . . I can’t stand to see you hurt like this . . .’ And now Stephen was crying too and Lewis put his arms around him and held him. ‘I’m sorry,’ Stephen sniffed, ‘I shouldn’t be crying, you shouldn’t be comforting me.’

Lewis shook his head. ‘It’s okay, love. I love that you’re this protective of me. I love that you care.’

‘Of course I fucking care!’ said Stephen fiercely, pulling away and looking into Lewis’s eyes. ‘I love you. I will always love you. I will always support you and always be there for you. Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it. You’re always taking care of me. Now it’s your turn to be taken care of.’

Lewis smiled through his tears. ‘All right. Then take me to bed, love of my life.’

Stephen stood and offered him his hand. ‘I’ll do anything you want.’

* * *

They arrived at Stephen’s parents’ house at around noon on Christmas Day, after spending Christmas Eve relaxing at home by themselves. The whole house smelled wonderfully of roasting turkey. They were offered mince pies and mulled wine when they entered, after hugs and kisses had been exchanged.

They sat down in the sitting room to wait for the food to be done. Stephen looked around at his childhood home. Nothing had really changed since he grew up here. They had the same art on the walls, the same furniture. Only the photos on the mantle had changed. In addition to childhood pictures of Stephen and his cousins, and photos from his parents’ wedding, there were now photos of his parents travelling (they were both retired and had the time now) and photos of Stephen with Lewis. He smiled and reached for his fiancé’s hand.

‘How’s work, then, Lewis?’ asked Stephen’s mum. ‘Any interesting projects?’

Lewis bobbed his head, ‘Eh, it varies. Got one coming up that seems fun. Logo design for an arts foundation, so naturally they want something artistic.’

‘And are you still painting?’ asked Stephen’s dad.

‘Sometimes,’ said Lewis with a shrug.

‘He finished a wonderful one just a couple of weeks ago,’ said Stephen proudly. ‘This abstract thing with lots of colours. Like rainbow colours.’ He beamed at Lewis. ‘I think we should hang it in the . . . the spare bedroom.’

His mother frowned. ‘But then it will be seen so rarely.’

‘Yeah, but we’re hoping to fill that room with a child before long,’ said Lewis with a smile. ‘Thank you, love. I think that’s a great place to hang it.’

Stephen’s father grinned. ‘We’re so happy you two want kids.’

His wife nodded vigorously. ‘Very! I always wanted to be a grandmother. No pressure, though!’ she hurried to add. ‘You two take your time.’

‘We may have no choice but to take our time,’ said Lewis. ‘These things always take time and, let’s face it, we’re a gay couple. A gay couple soon to be married, but still gay.’

Stephen’s mother shook her head sadly. ‘It’s awful that that should matter. So many children out there who need loving homes, and some people would exclude you just because you’re of the same sex. It breaks my heart.’

Her husband nodded. ‘By the way . . . Lewis. Stephen told us what happened, with your dad and your mum. We’re so sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you.’ Lewis smiled at them both. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘Please,’ said Stephen’s mum, ‘I hope you know that you are part of this family. You’re about to become our son-in-law, but even if that weren’t the case, we’d still love you. You are a wonderful, wonderful man, and we would be proud to call you our son.’

Stephen watched as Lewis swallowed. His eyes looked a little wet and he cleared his throat. ‘I . . . Thank you. I feel the same. You . . . you and Stephen, you’re the closest to family I’ve had since I came out. I love you, all three of you.’

Stephen squeezed his hand, then kissed it. ‘I’m so happy to be marrying you. But even if we weren’t, we’d still be a family.’

Lewis nodded, for once seemingly at a loss for words. Then they all stood up and hugged.

* * *

Stephen and Lewis returned home that evening, and the next day found them lounging about in their pyjamas. Lewis read a book, Stephen watched the Boxing Day Premiere League matches. They were not at all expecting the knock on the door that came at around four o’clock.

Since there was currently a break anyway, Stephen stood up and went to open the door. He was met by a tall, black man with short-cropped hair and a clean-shaven face. ‘Er, hello,’ said Stephen.

The man frowned. ‘Hi. Does, er . . . does Lewis live here?’

‘Oh. Uh, yeah, he does. Lewis!’ Stephen called into the front room. ‘It’s for you.’

Lewis came shuffling out into the hall and stopped dead when we saw the person, eyes wide and mouth agape. ‘Jason.’

The man at the door gave a crooked smile. ‘Hey, Lew. Can . . . may I come in, please?’

Stephen looked at Lewis, deferring to him. Lewis gave a curt nod. ‘All right.’

Jason entered, shedding his coat and his boots. Lewis stood with his arms folded across his chest, and when Jason had finished, he turned and walked into the front room. Stephen and Jason followed.

Looking about the room, Jason said, ‘This is a nice place.’

‘We’re moving out after New Year’s,’ said Stephen. ‘Can . . . should I get you something?’

‘No,’ said Lewis, turning to face them. His arms were still folded, his eyes cold. ‘Jason won’t be staying long.’

Jason looked down at his feet. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly. ‘I . . . I thought he’d told you.’

This confirmed what Stephen had suspected. This was one of Lewis’s brothers. As he never really spoke of his family, Stephen didn’t know any of their names, but they did look very much alike, though Jason was a tad lighter than Lewis.

‘Nobody told me,’ Lewis spat. ‘Nobody thought to tell me that . . . that my own mother had died. How could you?’

‘I’m sorry!’ Jason repeated. ‘I swear, if I’d known . . . I would have told you myself. I would. I even asked him, when you didn’t show up at the funeral, where you were. He just shrugged. I . . . I was sure he’d told you and you just didn’t want to come . . .’ He drew a shaky breath. ‘He told us yesterday, that you’d been there. So that’s when I found out.’ He took a slow step forward, but Lewis narrowed his eyes at him and he stopped. ‘I’m so, so sorry, for everything.’

Lewis scoffed. ‘Everything?’

‘Yes,’ said Jason emphatically. ‘I . . . I considered getting in touch, a couple of years ago, but when I mentioned it to the others . . . so I didn’t. But I should have. I hate the way we all left things. I didn’t want you to go, I . . . you’re my baby brother. But you know Isaac and Drew. I wasn’t strong enough and I’m so sorry for that.’ He sighed. ‘I spent the last thirteen years pretending I was the youngest of three.’

‘I’m supposed to feel sorry for you, am I?’ said Lewis coldly.

‘No! Not at all. I just . . . I came to apologise.’ He hesitated, looked at Stephen, then back at Lewis again. ‘Dad said you were getting married. Guessing this is him?’

‘Stephen,’ said Stephen. ‘I’d say pleased to meet you, but I don’t know if I am yet. You gonna go on a homophobic rant like your dad did?’

Jason shook his head. ‘I’ve no problem with you. I mean, yeah, at the time I was . . . But one of my coworkers is gay. And if I’m honest . . .’ He licked his lips. ‘I have a son. Nathaniel. He’s twelve and I think . . . I suspect he might be gay. Just something about him and . . . and he reminds me so much of you, Lewis, when you were that age. I want to let him know that it’s okay, but I don’t know how. I thought maybe . . .’ He sighed. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask after thirteen years of complete silence, but if you want, I’d like you to be a part of his life. And I’d like to be a part of yours. I hope some day you’ll forgive me for being such a coward.’

Sighing, Jason turned away and made to leave, but Lewis spoke. ‘Jason. Wait.’

Jason turned around, looking his brother in the eye. ‘I love you, Lew,’ he said softly.

Lewis went to him and hugged him. Jason hugged him back, holding him close. He was even taller than Lewis, which was quite a feat, and more built, so his embrace practically swallowed Lewis up. Stephen watched, blinking away tears. Once the two brothers had pulled apart, Lewis turned to him, smiling. ‘Come here.’

Stephen approached them and Lewis put his arm around his shoulder. ‘Stephen, this is my brother, Jason. Jason, I’d like to present my fiancé, Stephen Godwin.’

‘I’m very, very pleased to meet you,’ said Jason, and his smile looked genuine.

Stephen returned the expression. ‘Me too.’

‘Stephen and I are getting married on the thirtieth of March,’ said Lewis. ‘Will you come to our wedding?’

Jason’s smile widened into a grin. ‘I’d love to. Abi and Nate would love to come too, if they’re invited.’

‘Of course they are,’ said Lewis, smiling warmly. ‘They’re family.’ He turned to Stephen. ‘Why don’t you go get us a pot of tea, love? We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’

Stephen kissed Lewis’s cheek, shook Jason’s hand, and sauntered off into the kitchen. From the corner of his eye, he saw the two brothers sit down on the sofa together, and he smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to get to know his future brother-in-law.

Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it! If you did, or if you didn't, feel free to leave a comment or, better yet, a review! Or just leave a like. Merry Christmas! :) 
Copyright © 2019 Thorn Wilde; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

7 hours ago, JeffreyL said:

It is nice to get in a little visit with Lewis and Stephen during the holidays. They are such great characters! I can't imagine someone being like Lewis' father, but I know they are out there. The reunion with his brother was well done. More of your excellent dialogue and character growth. Thanks, and Happy Holidays. 

Happy Holidays, Jeffrey! I’m glad you enjoyed the story and that you like these two characters. This particular story was not initially planned, but I do have a few more that are, so you will get to hear more from them. Thank you for commenting! ☺️

  • Love 1
6 hours ago, donjr101 said:

Love this story and I would love to read more of it. Family is not always blood related and to make your own, you will always be surrounded by love. Very good story keep up the good work.

There will be more little snippets like this from their lives. I don’t know if you’ve read the two stories that came before this or not. Thanks for commenting, and for your kind words. :) 

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3 hours ago, Timothy M. said:

At first I thought I would have to leave a :( like, but Lewis' brother doing the right thing made it a happy ending for Christmas. I wonder if he got married young in order to get away from his father ? It's good to know Lewis will have family at his wedding too, and that his courage in visiting his father was worth it.

At this point in the story, Lewis is 33 and Jason is three years older, so 36. So he didn’t marry so catastrophically young; 22 isn’t so uncommon. It was kind of a shotgun wedding, though; he got Abi pregnant. :P 

I’m glad you liked the story. When I started writing it, I only knew I wanted to write a Christmas story about them. I had no plan at all. Everything just happened. I actually had to edit Storms a little bit, as Lewis’s family situation changed from what he described in Daniel’s Christmas chapter. 

But I digress. Thanks for commenting. Glædelig jul! :hug: 

Edited by Thorn Wilde
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