A uniform that now consisted of a vary garish Christmas jumper with reindeers and bells.
He made it to work with a minute to spare. But rushing to get ready had meant he still hadn’t replied to Dom’s text. Not that it needed a reply, but Henry liked to keep their conversations going.
Shoving his wallet, keys, and phone into his locker, Henry glanced out the window of the staffroom. Not seeing any of his immediate supervisors, he typed out a quick text to Dom.
Henry: Work’s shit already and I’ve only just got here. Hope your day is going better than mine.
He pressed Send before he could rethink it, placed his phone in his locker with everything else, and closed the door.
Out of sight, hopefully out of mind.
* * *
Wrong.
So very wrong.
Henry’s day dragged. Despite the Christmas music playing round the clock and the decorations—which he had to admit were quite tasteful—Henry felt far from festive.
If he had to look at another box of Heroes or Quality Street, he might hurl, and why was all the chocolate suddenly orange flavoured?
I don’t get it.
He’d also had enough of dealing with customers. Throwing a bag for life at him wasn’t the way to get him to pack the fucking shopping. A simple please and thank you would work a whole lot better.
When his break finally rolled around, Henry almost fell onto one of the stools in the staffroom with an energy drink and a protein bar for company. Snatching his phone from his locker, Henry’s pulse picked up at the sight of Dom’s name on his screen.
Dom:Well, I’ve dropped a box full of glass Christmas ornaments, burnt my tongue on a cup of coffee, and slipped over while moving Christmas trees so now my arse is covered in mud. Can you top that?
Henry laughed loudly before remembering where he was and covering his mouth. The last thing he wanted was his nosey colleagues wandering in with questions.
Henry:I’m wearing this...
He snapped a selfie of his Christmas jumper, making sure to get the reindeer in all their bell-covered glory.
Henry:I think I win.
It took a few minutes for Dom to reply, and Henry watched the three little dots as if they held the answers to everything.
Dom:Oh that’s bad, but pretty sure I have you beat...
A photo appeared as Henry was taking a drink and he almost choked trying to swallow it down.
Fuck me.
He drank in the photo of Dom, dressed in a bright red Santa jumper, with a pair of red sparkly antlers perched on his head.
Henry: Very festive.
And hot, he wanted to add, but they seemed to have moved into this weird friend-zone since they’d returned to real life, and Henry wasn’t sure how to get out of it.
If he brought up their week together, would Dom go radio silent? Or was Dom staring at his phone like Henry was, waiting for him to mention it first.
Christ. Why was this so hard?
He ran a hand through his hair, watching the three little dots on his phone and waiting impatiently for Dom’s reply.
Dom:It’s my punishment for breaking my mum’s ornaments.
