Our Christmas Sister Angel ·[Chapter: 4]

A gentle tale about the rebirth of mercy, second chances, the warmth of Christmas, and the meaning of being family.

If you’d like to walk this warm path from the very beginning and read the story from its first chapter, you can start [here] and follow the links within each part until you find your way back to this moment again.

To read the chapter that comes just before this one, kindly click [here].

Chapter [4]:
The Nest

 


“Stop fighting! Please, I beg you!”

Her voice cut through the freezing night like a bell.
Under the soft glow of the restaurant sign, she stood — delicate yet commanding. 
Snowflakes spun down through the air, catching in her long, black silk hair. 
The strands, loosened beneath the triangular scarf, fluttered lightly in the wind, dancing with the  falling snow. 
Her skin was pale as porcelain, her cheeks flushed a soft rose-red as though kissed by the cold. Her eyes were wide and dark as midnight, and her crimson lips  trembled as she spoke again.
She looked like she had walked straight out of a fairytale — Snow White in the first snowfall of  winter.
Her off-white gown, patterned with tiny golden stars, shimmered faintly in the lamplight. A red kitchen apron hugged her waist, matched by the triangular scarf tied around her hair. Golden-strapped sandals peeked from beneath her dress, their shimmer catching every stray spark of light. Somehow, the mixture made her look both otherworldly and warm, like a dream one didn’t want to wake from.



The five brothers froze.
For a heartbeat, even the snow seemed to pause mid-air.

Their cars, their shouting, the trail of blood on the icy asphalt… all of it suddenly felt unreal, like a fever breaking.


Rein was the first to glance around, bewildered.
“What… what is this place? How did we even get here?”

Tavin whispered, his breath clouding in the air:
“And you… who are you?”


Angela stepped forward slightly, hands clasped together, her voice gentle yet steady:
“I’m Angela , the owner of this restaurant. 
I’m sorry, but I’ve been watching you through the surveillance cameras since the very beginning. But when it turned into fight… I couldn’t stay inside any longer. So, I played your first song loudly,  hoping… hoping it might reach you.”


The brothers fell silent.
If one of them had been here alone, he might have sworn he was dreaming. 
How had they ended up on this deserted road at the edge of Novaris? And why did she — with her  beauty under the falling snow — feel like a vision summoned from the song itself?

Angela broke the silence with a soft smile.
“You can come inside. Clean your faces, wash away the blood. Don’t worry — the place is empty.  There’s only me.”


Shame burned through them like frostbite thawing too quickly. 
Slowly, awkwardly, the five moved forward. Tavin and Rein first, Sorin and Cian behind them, and at the end, Milo — his shoulders still tense, his knuckles raw.


As they approached the door, Milo lifted his eyes to the glowing wooden sign above:

The Nest — Warm Meals, Served with Love.



The interior looked as if it belonged to another century: stone walls, flickering amber lamps, rustic  wooden tables carved with Romanesque designs. 
Christmas garlands hung in soft arcs, casting the faintest sparkle across the room. From the ceiling, tiny pendant lights glowed like drops of honey, while an old fireplace crackled in the corner, throwing restless shadows across a painting of snow-covered mountains. A velvet curtain in deep burgundy framed the frost-kissed window, shutting out the storm. The scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, mingling with the gentle hiss of a kettle behind the counter.


Everything here radiated warmth and safety, as though the storm outside could never breach its  walls. It felt less like a restaurant and more like stepping into a circle of magic—time slowed, voices softened, and the world beyond seemed impossibly far away.


Angela reappeared with a first-aid kit and ice packs.
Without words, the brothers sat — each at a different table, scattered, like children sulking after a  fight.


Cian pressed ice gently to Sorin’s swollen cheek, while Rein dabbed at Milo’s split lip, his own face still stinging from the shove earlier.

Angela stood for a moment, watching them with quiet tenderness. The curve of her smile was not  that of a fan, or a stranger dazzled by fame. 
It was the smile of a mother who has just gathered five reckless sons back home, drenched in snow, trembling with exhaustion.



Her voice was calm, warm, almost musical:
“Have you had dinner? In this cold… nothing will help more than a hot meal.”


None of them could refuse. Her presence had shifted the air — from violence to something fragile,  something safe.


How could she, a stranger, manage to change the atmosphere in a heartbeat? She wasn’t like the fans who screamed at the mere sight of them. She spoke to them as if she had always known them, as  if she could see beneath the glittering masks.

And strangely, they felt it too.
For a moment, they weren’t world-famous singers. They weren’t Pulse 5. They were just five children again, tired from a long school  day, stepping into the kitchen of a home where warmth and safety waited.



Angela disappeared into the kitchen, and her silhouette flickered against the golden light inside.


Sorin leaned back in his chair with a crooked grin.
“Oh… who is this beauty? She’s stunning. If only I’d met her before we shot that music video…she would’ve stolen the spotlight from all the dancers.”

Milo’s head snapped toward him, eyes blazing. “You bastard—”
He surged forward, fists clenched, ready to strike again.

But before he could, Rein and Cian grabbed him, holding him back with difficulty.
“For God’s sake, enough!” Tavin hissed, turning his anger on Sorin this time. “Shut your damn mouth ! and let's think about how we will deal with this new disaster that has befallen us!”


Rein, still restraining Milo, frowned. “ New disaster? What are you talking about?”

Tavin’s voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes darting toward the kitchen door.
“Didn’t you hear her? She said she saw everything from the cameras. Everything. Do you realize  what happens if those videos get out? If the press gets hold of it—”


The brothers froze.
The thought sank in like a blade. 
Their fight, the blood, the words they had thrown at each other… if that footage leaked, their careers wouldn’t just take damage.

It could end them.



............To be continued in “chapter : 5  ” tomorrow.
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