Goth Christmas Sweater Novels & Stories

“Baby?” I kept my eyes on the TV and didn’t look at him. “I’m not done ignoring you.” He moved into the room then stood in front of the TV, blocking the screen and forcing me to look at him. That was when I noticed the Christmas sweater. The reindeer pattern covered the green sweater, all of them with red noses. It fit him perfectly, but it also looked comical because it was something he would never, ever wear. My mouth dropped open. “Giovanni encouraged me to put this on. Said it might help you forgive me.”

Kat replied while she held the outfit up and examined it. “Oh hell no,” Taryn gave out as she jumped off the bed with phone still in hand. She snatched the sweater from Kat and observed it. It was red and green with black stripes and a large reindeer embroidered in the centre. The material looked like something sewed by Mrs. Clause. “This thing looks like the Nightmare Before Christmas. What kind of best friend I would be if I let my bestie be seen in this monstrosity?” “What's wrong with it?” Kat asked. “I think it has spunk,” Kat added, and Taryn practically laughed as she gave the hideous apparel another scornful look.

The cold bites, penetrating my several layers of clothing and regardless of what I might think of Mitch's sense of humour, I've topped it all off with the hideous garment Mitch gave me for Christmas. I've not yet fathomed why she chose to inflict the hand-knitted sweater complete with bobble-hatted penguin on the front, but since James and Michael wore theirs, I suppose it didn't cost me anything to wear mine. And when all's said and done, it's helping to keep me warm. Still... I suck in a smile at how Haswell was coerced into wearing his at the Christmas table. Michael preventing James from serving the meal until Haswell changed out of his suit and into the Santa-cursed pullover Mitch infli

"And still not dead. I really like this sweater. What is this material? Angora? Why the hell do you have an angora sweater stuffed in the back of your closet?" Plugging my flat iron in, I watch him finger the material. He's really enjoying this way too much. "It's not really my style. I got it as a Christmas present a couple years ago from Jessica Funderling. I thought she was just being nice, but now that I think about it, I think it was her passive-aggressive way of telling me I dressed like shit." "Well she can passive-aggressively gift things to me anytime." He tosses the clothes back down on the bed and swings his legs back and forth.

But I can see that she did her job, and that’s all I care for. And his broad smile. He is even holding a gift, and I guess I will get to see him wearing the Christmas sweater I was looking forward to for days already. This brunch is the last scheduled event at his mother’s house, meaning that I only have to wait a few more hours to finally have him back to myself. I observe Theodore ripping open the seasonal wrapping paper with sparkling eyes before he discloses the ugliest crochet monstrosity that I have ever seen. He laughs as he pulls it over his head, thanking his grandmother over and over again, and suddenly, it looks awfully nice.

Azren goes very still behind me. Oh? Oh, this is interesting. I turn around, holding it up. It's a sweater. A soft, cozy, V-neck knit that's almost... net-like? Slightly loose and airy. And across the front in ridiculous cursive lettering are the words: "SOFT BOYS DESERVE FLOWERS." I blink. Then I look at Azren. He looks like someone just pulled a loaded weapon on him. "No," he says immediately. I grin slowly. "Oh yes."

He pushed past the acrylic pullovers and the shrunken wool vests. "Come on," Elion whispered. "Alex painted it. It has to be here." If the painting was a prophecy, the prop had to exist. He reached the end of the rack. There it was. A heavy, grey, cable-knit sweater. It looked oversized. Cozy. It looked like something a fisherman would wear to wait out a storm. Elion grabbed it. He checked the tag. 100% Wool. Made in Ireland. He held it up. It looked exactly like the one in the painting. The texture. The color.

"I'll be waiting in the car with your coffee, be quick hm?" Young-Jae hurried to open the bag and gasped at the beautiful sweater inside. It was a grey and white fabric with red details around the neck with a pair of jeans that were distressed around the knees. He quickly slid it over his head and frowned at the size, it landed just below his crotch and the sleeved hid his palms completely so he shrugged and rolled them up to perfection.

I was buried in a third-quarter sales report when something soft landed on my head. I looked up to find Gwen beside my desk, hands on her hips, wearing a mischievous grin like she was extremely proud of herself. "Gwen, what…?" I started, reaching up and feeling fuzzy fabric. "Christmas hat." She announced it with theatrical flair, like she was presenting a masterpiece. "It looks perfect on you." I couldn't help laughing at how pleased she looked. I pulled the hat off and checked it out. One of those classic red ones with a white pom-pom, probably bought at a department store nearby.

"Why don't you find some Christmas music and I'll be right back. With that, she bounded out his door and hurried up the stairs. Chris took a big swallow of his wine. The holidays were looking much brighter to him now. The season of joy was brighter and full of possibilities, if only for a few hours ahead. Little did he know how sexually joyful this night would be. Chris didn't waste any time while Beth was upstairs. He opened boxes and began revisiting his little holiday decoration collection. In one box there were strings of small electric lights. The other two had ornaments and little table knick knacks. He finished his wine, and poured another glass. When Beth finally opened his door, he