JENNIE KIM IMAGINES

Grinch's wife

Christmas Eve with Jennie in my arms feels like the best kind of warmth, the kind that makes you forget the sharp bite of winter just outside the window. Her body molds perfectly into mine, and we're tangled together under the softest blanket we could find, as if letting go for even a second would be unbearable. The room smells like pine from the tree we decorated two nights ago, half the ornaments still crooked because we got distracted with wine and laughter. The fairy lights blink lazily, casting a cozy glow over everything, but honestly, the best thing I see right now is her.

She's curled up against me, wearing the oversized Grinch wife suit we picked out for fun, and she looks so damn cute in it. It's baggy in the sleeves, so every now and then, she pushes them back to hold her wine glass properly, grumbling in frustration when they slip down again. I love that little frown she makes—half annoyed, half amused. I make a point to kiss it away every time.

"I look ridiculous," she mutters, pouting, but there's a smile tugging at her lips.

"Nah, you look adorable," I say, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. "The cutest Grinch wife ever."

She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she loves hearing it. Jennie's never been great at hiding how she feels when she's with me—thank God for that. I tighten my arms around her waist, pulling her closer until she's practically sitting in my lap.

We've got a cheesy Christmas movie playing on the TV—something neither of us is really paying attention to, but it adds to the holiday vibe. Every so often, Jennie points out something silly in the film, and I laugh because I can't help it. She has that effect on me, always making the world feel lighter, easier. Her laugh alone is enough to melt the coldest winter night.

She shifts slightly, resting her head under my chin, and I press a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smells like vanilla and something floral I can't quite place, but it's familiar, and it makes me feel at home. God, I don't even care about presents or any of that holiday stuff right now. Being here, wrapped up with her in this small, perfect bubble—this is all I need.

"I've never felt this... I don't know, happy?" I whisper, more to myself than to her. But she hears me. She always does.

Jennie pulls back just enough to look up at me, her big, dark eyes shining with something soft and sweet. "Yeah?" she asks, her voice quiet, like she wants to savor this moment too.

I nod, brushing my thumb along her jaw. "Yeah. You make me feel... like nothing else matters. Just you, me, and this stupid blanket."

She giggles, and it's the kind of sound that makes my heart stutter in my chest. "Same." She leans up and kisses me, soft and slow, like she's trying to say everything she feels without words.

The kiss turns into two, then three, and soon we're a tangle of limbs and laughter, trying to steal as much of each other as we can. Her cold toes brush against my leg, and I yelp, making her burst into giggles.

"Your feet are freezing!" I protest, but I don't let go. Not even close.

"That's your problem now," she teases, nuzzling deeper into me, completely content.

We stay like that, sipping wine between kisses, trading soft smiles and whispers that make no sense but mean everything. Outside, the world is still cold, but in here—with her in my arms—it's all warmth. Just me, her, and the weight of a blanket that feels lighter than anything else we've ever carried.