Remington leant back against the sofa, taking a few seconds to just…be.
The day had been amazing - busy, hectic, tiring even: but truly amazing. The best Christmas Day Remington could remember having in years.
His brothers had woken him up as soon as they had woken up, just like they had all done to each other when they were still kids, and they’d all come downstairs to make breakfast for their mom and respective girlfriends, before waking them up so they could all go downstairs and unwrap their presents. There had been drinking (it was acceptable on Christmas Day to have a drink straight after breakfast) and laughing to Christmas songs and snacking between opening gifts: all of it had been a brightly coloured blur of happiness and warmth. And that was all before they’d even had lunch.
After lunch, they’d all stumbled their way over to the sofas in front of the tv, and collapsed down onto them to watch Christmas films and pretend that they weren’t all half asleep.
He was wrapped up under a fluffy blanket with his girlfriend, laying with his back against the sofa while Ginger’s back was against his chest: his arms around her waist and her hands on top of his where they were linked just over her belly.
It was pretty fucking perfect.
Remington had had a rough year, there was no two ways about it. Touring the world, as much as he loved it, had put a lot of strain on his last relationship, to the point where his ex had dumped him in January. He’d just started getting over that, focusing on himself and the band, and then the whole world had come to a stand-still. The virus had put everything on pause: concerts, meeting up with friends, even going into a recording studio…and that hadn’t been good for Remington. It hadn’t been good for a lot of people - Remington by no means thought he had it worst, he knew he was damn lucky in the grand scheme of things - but it had gotten to Remington.
He’d gotten depressed. He’d started relying on drinking to get through the day. He’d started thinking that perhaps he wouldn’t make it to see next year.
Sebastian and Emerson had noticed - a little bit later than they were happy about, but Remington didn’t blame them for that; he’d been trying to hide it from them - and started forcing him to live his live again. Sebastian had moved in with him: forced Remington to get up, shower, eat, exercise, and Emerson had called every day to talk to Remington, listen to how he was feeling and offer comfort and advice. Slowly but surely, Remington had started to feel more human. He started to feel more like himself.
And then he’d met Ginger.
“You okay, hun? You look like you’re a million miles away.”
Remington looked down at Ginger, who seemed to have picked up on where his mind was drifting, and smiled: “I’m great.”
Ginger smiled, and turned back to the film on the screen…but Remington continued smiling even when she couldn’t see it.
The night he’d met Ginger was the best night of his life. They hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts, mostly because they hadn’t met while Remington was in the best of places, but she wasn’t the kind of person who held things against people - at least not after they’d apologised, which Remington had as soon as he’d realised what a prick he’d been.
Sweetheart that she was, Ginger had forgiven him. And then she’d accepted his number. And then his offer of a Zoom date. The rest, as they say, was history.
Now Remington didn’t think he could be any more content.
He wasn’t always happy; he was a human being, not a machine, and so it was okay if his emotions fluctuated, but he didn’t feel as low as he had in the summer. And he had his brothers, his mom, and Ginger to thank for that. Without them, he didn’t know where he’d be…so he couldn’t be happier to spend Christmas Day lounging about on the sofa, stuffed full of Christmas food and watching old Christmas films.
Life is good.
“I’m going to make myself a hot chocolate.” Ginger announced as the current film they were watching started rolling the credits: “Does anyone else want one, or anything else?”
She got a list of orders - but when she turned to Remington, he just shook his head: “I’ll come and help you.”
“Thank you, hun.” Ginger pecked him on the cheek before hauling herself off the sofa, and helping Remington do the same.
They shuffled into the kitchen, and Remington curled himself in the blanket he snagged off of the sofa as he stood behind Ginger as she stood at the stove: wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his cheek on her shoulder, falling into a doze as she stirred milk and melting chocolate in a pan.
“You sure you’re doing okay, hun?” she asked softly, just before he almost fell asleep: “You’ve been really quiet since lunch.”
Remington leaned in to press a soft kiss to the spot where her jaw met her neck, smiling: “Yeah. Just been thinking.”
“Very good thinking.” Remington smirked: “It’s been about you.”
Ginger laughed - but turned her head to offer him a chaste kiss in response: “Charmer.”
“I’m hoping my flattery will get me extra marshmallows on my hot chocolate.”
“Well, since you’ve been so sweet…”
Both Remington and Ginger laughed, before lapsing back into a comfortable silence. Remington pulled away when the hot chocolate was almost done, crossing over to the kettle to make tea for Sebastian, Larissa, and Emerson. He dug out a tray for all the mugs, and helped Ginger load everything onto it, before heading back into the living room to hand out drinks and see what film the others had chosen to put on next.
Apparently, after what was probably about fifteen minutes of the usual bickering, they’d settled on ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ - something that made Remington grin.
It was just so fitting.