The Black mamba

The rich neighborhood glistened in the early morning light, its clean streets and manicured gardens reflecting the serene luxury of the suburb. The scene was picturesque, with every house exuding a warmth that matched the holiday spirit.

In a cozy yellow room adorned with sunflower-themed decorations, a cherished family photo stood proudly beside a buzzing alarm clock. RIIIIING! The alarm pierced through the peaceful morning, jolting Falethier awake. Her yellow hair stuck out in messy tufts, but her blue and white eyes sparkled with excitement, sharp and ready for the day.

She bolted out of bed, her sunflower-patterned blue pajamas rustling as she hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, her heart skipped a beat as her gaze fell upon the towering Christmas tree from the night before, now surrounded by presents wrapped in vibrant colors. Katyusha sat beside the tree, engrossed in her tablet. Her long, dark hair cascaded to her shoulders, framing her calm yet radiant face.

Thaurex passed by Falethier with a smirk. "Oh, look who's up," he teased.

"Morning, Papa!" Falethier chirped, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Did you water your plants?" Thaurex asked casually.

Her eyes widened in realization. Without a word, she turned and dashed back up the stairs. In her room, Falethier slid onto the windowsill that overlooked the pristine neighborhood and the distant skyscrapers of the city. Below the window, her small sunflower garden basked in the morning sunlight, their bright petals leaning toward the light as if waiting for her attention.

The clouds gathered, covering the sun as the family sat together in the living room. The TV displayed the warm glow of a fireplace, setting a cozy scene. Falethier, now with tidy hair, sat in front of the tree. Wrapping paper lay scattered around her, and only one gift remained. Katyusha sat beside her, a cup of coffee in hand, her soft blue eyes fixed on her daughter.

"Go ahead, dear. Open it," Katyusha said gently, her voice warm and inviting.

Falethier's excitement took over as she ripped through the wrapping paper, her movements eager and fast. As soon as she opened it, she froze, standing motionless in shock.

"What did you get her?" Thaurex whispered to Katyusha, leaning in with curiosity. Katyusha only smiled softly, a knowing warmth in her expression.

"What did you get, honey?" Thaurex asked, his voice filled with curiosity as he peeked over at Falethier's gift.

Falethier slowly looked up, holding up the white winter gloves in awe. Thaurex was taken aback, his eyes wide with surprise. This was the first time Falethier had received something outside her usual colors—blue or yellow. This gift was white, like her eyes. And like his.

"These... what do they mean?" Falethier asked, her voice filled with confusion, her gaze fixed on the gloves.

Katyusha looked at her with a tender smile. "There's more beauty in yellow, but white is pure. It represents change... and a beautiful future."

As Katyusha spoke, snow began to fall gently outside the window, a Christmas miracle in the making.

"Oh, look! It's starting to snow," Thaurex said, standing up and gazing out at the falling flakes. "Go put on your warm clothes, sweetheart. I'll show you how to make a snowman."

Falethier hurried upstairs, leaving the white gloves behind, but not before catching a glance at her parents.

Thaurex turned to Katyusha, his brow furrowing slightly. "What was all that about?"

Katyusha, standing beside him, nodded. "You know, Katyusha has always been called a freak because of her eyes. And for some reason, she clearly hates the white one."

Thaurex looked back at her, puzzled. "But... she doesn't seem like she's bothered by it."

Katyusha shook her head. "I'm simply showing her that there is greatness in all colors, including white. It's purity."

"I suppose so," Thaurex said, his tone thoughtful. "But I've never seen her quite like this before."

A while later, Falethier returned downstairs, bursting with energy. "I'm all ready!" she exclaimed, her yellow gloves replaced by the white ones.

Thaurex stepped outside first, taking in the sight of the snow-covered world. His eyes, matching the white snow, held a quiet power. He stood still, waving for Falethier to join him.

Before Falethier could rush out, Katyusha gently stopped her. She took Falethier's small hands, removing her yellow gloves and replacing them with the white ones she had just received.

"Your favorite day is covered in white," Katyusha said softly, her voice filled with love. "And the person you love most has white eyes. There's no shame in having a white eye. It shows your love for those you care about. It makes you unique, just like you, Falethier."

Katyusha kissed Falethier's forehead, and Falethier stood frozen for a moment, staring at her gloves. She looked up at Thaurex, his white eyes like the snow around them. With her hand in his, she saw the connection between them—white wasn't a curse. It was love, a gift from her father.

With a smile spreading across her face, Falethier rushed toward Thaurex, leaping into his arms, both of them tumbling to the ground with laughter. Katyusha stood by the doorway, watching them with a gentle, loving gaze.

Later that night, as the house grew quiet, Falethier placed a new picture beside the family portrait. It was a picture of a snowman wearing her yellow gloves and a sunflower on its head, surrounded by Thaurex, Katyusha, and herself, frozen in that perfect moment of love.