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Pyro watched the snow fall along the large windowsill in the castle's ballroom, coating the outside in a fine layer of powder. It hadn't snowed much back at the capital, and the sight of sparkling bright white was beautiful. They wish someone else was there to experience it with them.
They remember spending their childhood and early teen years surrounded by other people during the holidays, their family's home busy with the movement of servants, yet feeling entirely alone.
The hustle and bustle of bodies mingling at their family's Christmas parties had never appealed to Pyro, but they had always been too desperate for a modicum of attention to be left out. It made their parents pleased that they were able to show them off, and even if it was shallow, it was more than they were used to.
Pyro used to cling onto whatever scrap of affection he could glean from his parents, however little it was. They were always more generous during the holidays, and Pyro held onto the hope that it would last every time.
He was left disappointed every time, yet he still hoped.
It hadn't gotten him anywhere, in the end. Pyro had never been enough for them, and he never would be. He saw that now clearly, where he had desperately shielded himself from the painful truth before.
It had always had to be enough, at the time.
A Christmas greeting in the morning from his mother. His father remembering his existence enough to get him something for the holiday. Both of them sitting beside him at the table for a family dinner.
It was never going to be enough.
Pyro leans hard against the window, pressing their hand to chilled glass.
“Pyro!”
They turn, a small smile pulling at their lips as Shelby bounds over to them. “Hello, Shelby.”
She beams up at them, no less joyful and enthusiastic than she was before he turned her. That sort of grace and forgiveness was unfamiliar to Pyro, but they were grateful for it nonetheless.
Shelby moves up beside him, tilting her head. “What are you doing?”
“I was just thinking.” Pyro glances back out the window, eyes trailing over the winter landscape. “The snowfall is pretty, isn't it?”
Shelby turns towards the window as well. “It is. I got snow back home, but not like this.”
Pyro hums quietly, his voice coming out more melancholy than intended. “I've never seen snow like this either. The capital never got much, and any that did fall was cleared away.”
He jolts a little as he feels Shelby grasp his hand in hers. He looks back at her, looking down at their clasped hands in silent question.
Shelby only smiles. “Well, I'm glad you get to experience it now.”
Pyro returns her smile. “Yeah. Me too.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of loud purposeful steps clicking against the wood floor.
Scott enters the ballroom, and Pyro blinks in surprise at the sight of him. Scott isn't wearing his usual attire. Instead, a black woolen overcoat sits overtop a high collared red blouse. The thing that stands out the most, however, is the bright red stain that paints his lips.
Shelby brightens up at the sight, squeezing Pyro's hand once before making her way over to their sire. Pyro follows behind her, embarrassment dawning on them as they break away from their staring.
Scott smiles, his fangs gleaming under the lighting in the ballroom. “What are you two doing, hmm? I've been looking around for you.”
Pyro fidgets with their hands, tapping a sharp nail against their thigh, trying to avoid staring at Scott's lips. “I was just looking out at the snow, Sire. Shelby joined me only a moment earlier.”
Scott hums, straightening from where he's leaned up against the archway. “It is quite beautiful. Oakhurst has always gotten heavy snowfall.”
Pyro nods as Shelby speaks up. “Why were you looking for us?”
Scott's smile widens. “For dinner, of course. It is the holidays, after all. Owen and myself prepared something nice for the four of us.”
Pyro blinks again in surprise as Scott starts to lead them to the dining hall. “Owen helped?”
Scott waves a dismissive hand, though he looks far too pleased to really be annoyed with the other older vampire. “He needed some persuasion, but even Owen finds it hard to be difficult during such a time.”
Pyro found that hard to believe, the thought of Owen being happy strange enough on its own, but he didn’t question it.
Owen was already sat at the table, a mild scowl on his face. True to Scott's word, there was a decent spread of meat and crimson bottles lining the table.
Scott takes his seat at the head, and Pyro takes his right. Shelby sits next to Owen, instantly starting up a conversation with him. A warm sort of feeling plants itself in Pyro's chest despite his heart having long stopped dead inside.
The meal wasn't held in silence, everyone hopping into conversation with each other. Shelby giggles at something Scott says, and even Owen can't quite muffle a small smile.
It's with a start that Pyro realizes this feels like family, much more so than flippant holiday greetings or half hearted gifts.
After dinner is had, Scott pulls out two boxes, handing one to Owen, and one to Shelby.
Shelby runs her fingers over the box. “What is this, Scott?”
Scott waves his hand. “I know we don't have many options, but I still wanted to give you something.”
Shelby beams, lifting the lid to reveal a delicate ruby necklace. “Oh, Scott! It's beautiful.”
Owen looks down at his own box, a frown tugging at his lips that Pyro thinks looks more confused than upset. Inside the second box is a small ruby broach. Owen's eyes widen before he quickly schools his expression. “...Thank you, I guess.”
Scott grins, looking smug. “You're very welcome.”
Pyro smiles to himself fondly as he watches Shelby gush about the gifts.
“Pyro.”
Pyro blinks, looking up at Scott, who has turned to face them.
Scott holds out his hand.
“Sire?”
Scott smiles. “Give me your hand, Pyro.”
Pyro does carefully, their eyes widening slightly as Scott places a box in their hand. They pull it towards themself, glancing back up at Scott. “For me, Sire?”
Scott nods. “Of course. You didn't think I would leave you out, now did you?”
Pyro shakes their head slowly, lifting the lid of the box, eyes widening further at the sight of a pretty teardrop ruby earring.
They dart their head up, eyes landing on the identical one Scott is wearing.
“May I do the honors, my dear?”
Pyro stares for a moment more before nodding his head quickly. Scott's eyes crease as he picks up the earring, leaning in close to put it in. His hands are cold on Pyro's skin, but he finds he misses them when Scott pulls away.
“Now we match.” Scott says, looking entirely pleased with himself.
Pyro's hand trails up, brushing over the ruby. “Now we match,” he mutters back quietly, a deep-seated warmth he didn't know he was still capable of feeling settling firmly in his chest.
It felt right, sitting there surrounded by his new family.
It felt like home.