Page 35 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Johan

I wake up to the morning light filtering softly through the curtains.

Beside me, Hannah’s long chestnut hair cascades over the pillow, framing her serene face.

Her slim figure is partially hidden beneath the blankets, but the curve of her shoulder peeking out is enough to make my heart swell with affection.

I can’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude as I watch her, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath.

Carefully, I lean over and kiss her on the cheek, relishing the warmth of her skin.

A surge of happiness fills me, and I realize just how lucky I am to have this moment with her.

I wish I could wake up next to her every single day for the rest of my life.

Quietly, I slip out of bed and head to my luggage, which is propped up against the wall.

I rummage through it, finding the small, carefully wrapped package I’ve brought for her.

I hold it for a moment, feeling a surge of anticipation and a touch of nervousness.

Turning back to the bed, I place a soft kiss on her lips to wake her.

“Merry Christmas, Hannah,” I whisper.

Her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at me, surprised and still a bit sleepy. “Oh wow.” She stretches out, yawning. “I had no idea we’d be exchanging gifts.”

“I know,” I say with a smile, my heart racing a little. “I just wanted to get you something.”

She sits up, a curious and delighted expression on her face, as she takes the package from me.

Her hair falls over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the morning light and making her look like an angel.

She unwraps the gift carefully, revealing a vintage oddities box.

Her eyes widen with delight as she examines the intricate details of the box.

“I got it in an antique shop in London. I thought it’d look great with your collection.”

Hannah’s face lights up with joy. “Thank you, Johan. It’s perfect.

” She lifts the lid of the box, her excitement palpable.

Inside, she finds an assortment of odd and fascinating objects: a small brass compass, an ornate silver thimble, a tiny glass vial filled with colorful beads, an intricately carved wooden figurine, and an old-fashioned key.

She takes out the brass compass first, its surface slightly tarnished but the needle still pointing true. “This is beautiful,” she says, turning it over in her hands.

Next, she picks up the silver thimble, examining the delicate engravings that adorn its surface. “Look at the craftsmanship on this.”

The tiny glass vial catches her eye next. She holds it up to the light, the beads inside catching the light and casting small, colorful reflections. “These are lovely.”

Finally, she gently lifts the wooden figurine, a small figure of a bird in flight, its wings outstretched as if frozen mid-soar. She traces the delicate carvings with her fingertips. “This is amazing.”

Hannah kisses me hard, her arms wrapping around my neck. “Thank you, Johan. I love it.”

She gives me a big hug, and we linger in the moment, wrapped up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

The way she looks at me with so much love and gratitude makes my heart swell.

I can’t help but think about how much I want this—waking up beside her, sharing gifts, and creating memories together—every day.

After a few minutes, we start getting ready for the day.

The air is filled with the scent of pine and the distant sounds of holiday cheer drifting up from downstairs.

As we get dressed, I steal glances at Hannah, marveling at how effortlessly beautiful she is.

Every moment with her feels like a gift.

As we descend the staircase, the sound of laughter and playful shrieks becomes clearer.

Margaret and Amelia are in the living room, playing with the kids.

We walk in to see Joris, Aleida, and little Arthur tearing into their presents.

The room is a kaleidoscope of wrapping paper, ribbons, and delighted faces.

Arthur, eyes wide with excitement, holds up a large dragon toy, complete with a sword and shield. He rushes over to me, his small face beaming with pride. “Look, Johan! I got a dragon!”

I crouch down to his level, admiring the toy. “That’s amazing, Arthur! A dragon and a knight’s gear? You must be the bravest knight in the land.”

Arthur nods enthusiastically, holding the dragon close as if it’s a treasured companion. The joy in his eyes is infectious, and I can’t help but smile at his excitement.

Margaret looks up from where she’s sitting on the floor, helping Aleida with her new magical potions. “Good morning, you two. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” we reply in unison, the warmth and joy of the morning filling the room.

My eyes go to twelve-year-old Joris, who seems to be in a rush as he promptly opens his own present and reveals two sets of sword replicas with lion shields and masks, perfect for two people.

He immediately starts showing off, pointing out how his sword is bigger and better.

“Look at my sword, Arthur. It’s way bigger than yours,” he boasts, putting on his mask and waving his sword around.

Arthur’s excitement fades as his lower lip begins to quiver.

His big, innocent eyes fill with tears, and the more Joris sneers and points his sword at him, the more I can see his small face contort with the effort of holding back his sobs.

Seeing him so distressed, my heart aches.

When he starts to cry, the sound is heart-wrenching.

Before anyone can step in, I quickly scoop him up and soothe him.

“Hey, don’t worry about his sword. You have a dragon, and that’s way cooler,” I say, giving him a reassuring hug and a kiss on the head.

Arthur clings to me, comforted by my words, his sobs subsiding into sniffles.

Joris keeps teasing, a smirk on his face. “You can’t even fight me with that little sword.”

“But I can,” I say, a playful challenge in my voice. “Can I take this set?” I ask Joris.

When he nods, I pick up the other sword and shield, and we start play-fighting in the middle of the room.

Arthur’s tears quickly turn to laughter as he watches us.

The room echoes with his giggles when I land a playful blow on Joris’ bottom, causing him to yell in exaggerated rage.

We continue our knightly duel, the kids and adults alike entertained by our antics.

Hannah is even recording the entire scene, her laughter joining the chorus.

When I finally “defeat” Joris, I declare, “Now that you’ve been defeated, I command you to be kind to your brother, for he has a dragon.”

Arthur stands up, proudly displaying his dragon and pretending it’s breathing fire. Everyone bursts into laughter, thoroughly entertained by the show, and they all clap.

Resigned to his faith, Joris goes to his nanny, who invites him to get a cookie in the kitchen.

As the laughter dies down, Hannah sidles up to me, her eyes shining. “All I ever wanted was to run away from the chaos of my home, but you seem to enjoy it very much for someone who never had siblings.”

I give her a kiss on the hand, feeling the connection between us deepen. “You make it easy to love, chaos and all.”

We head to the dining room for breakfast, but just as we sit down, my phone buzzes again. Astrid is calling. Reluctantly, I excuse myself to take the call in a quiet corner of the house.

“Hey, Astrid. Merry Christmas again,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

“Hey, love,” she replies, her voice cheerful. “I just wanted to let you know that your family has RSVP’d for the Goschen NYE ball, and it looks like Conrad’s family might go too.”

I freeze, not wanting to see her again at her parents’ estate. “I’ll have to check,” I say, unsure of what else to offer. “I need to study, and there's a lot to prepare for Oman.”

“Johan, you ain’t gonna work at midnight. Come! My dad is so excited to see you again.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it,” I say, feeling cornered.

“Perfect, I knew I could count on you. Bye, love.” And she hangs up.

I return to the dining room, feeling the weight of the conversation like a heavy stone in my chest. The soft clinking of Hannah’s spoon against her bowl stops abruptly as she looks up, concern etched deeply on her face, eyes wide with worry.

“What’s up?” Her voice's tinged with apprehension.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I walk forward. “Astrid called. Her family is hosting a New Year’s Eve masked ball. My family RSVP’d, and Conrad’s family might go too,” I explain, sounding more tired than I intended.

Hannah’s expression darkens immediately, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Astrid is doing it on purpose. Inviting you, your parents, Conrad... everyone gets to go except me. It’s pure malice,” she says, heaving a long sigh.

I sit down across from her, feeling helpless. “I know.”

Hannah’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, a mix of hurt and anger burning within them. “Are you going?” she asks, her tone softer, almost vulnerable.

“I don’t know yet,” I admit, the uncertainty gnawing at me.

She doesn’t say anything else, focusing on finishing her breakfast in silence.

The atmosphere grows thick with tension, each passing second weighing heavier.

After finishing, she quietly retreats to the bedroom, and I know I can't leave things like this. Understanding that she’s upset, I follow her upstairs, my heart heavy with guilt and sorrow.

Seeing her sitting alone, her shoulders slumped, sadness radiating from her in palpable waves twists something deep inside me. The sight of her like this makes my chest ache.

I sit beside her on the bed, reaching for her hand, needing to touch her, to offer some semblance of comfort. “Hannah, if you don’t want me to go, I won’t go,” I say, my voice firm yet gentle.