The fireplace crackled softly, the glow of the flames dancing on the walls of your cozy living room. A fresh blanket of snow covered the world outside, but inside, it was warm and festive. The Christmas tree stood tall in the corner, decorated with twinkling lights and ornaments that glistened like stars.
Nicholas sat cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the tree, his sleeves rolled up as he fiddled with the gift you'd handed him—a flat box wrapped in shimmery gold paper. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and the look of concentration on his face made you smile.
"You're putting me to work on Christmas Eve?" he teased, glancing up at you with a crooked grin.
"Hey, you're the one who said you wanted to be helpful," you replied with a playful shrug, perching on the arm of the couch.
He raised a brow. "Helpful, sure. I didn't think you'd hand me a 'some assembly required' gift."
"Trust me, it'll be worth it," you said, leaning in closer. "Besides, you've got that 'Santa's little helper' look going on right now. It suits you."
Nicholas chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to piecing together the small vintage record player you'd surprised him with. It was an unexpected find—something you knew he'd love as a collector of old-school music. He'd lit up when he unwrapped it, and now, watching him bring it to life felt like its own little gift to you.
As he worked, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your Christmas playlist, a mischievous idea sparking in your mind. You tapped on "Santa Baby" by Eartha Kitt, letting the sultry, playful tune fill the room.
Nicholas paused, his hands hovering over the record player as he looked up at you. A slow smile spread across his face. "Oh, so we're setting the mood now?"
"What? It's a Christmas classic!" you said innocently, though the glint in your eye gave you away.
He laughed, setting the tools aside and standing up. "You know, you're way too good at this teasing thing."
"Me? Teasing?" you asked, feigning shock. You swayed to the beat of the music, the hem of your oversized sweater brushing against your thighs. "I'm just getting into the Christmas spirit."
Nicholas crossed the room in a few easy strides, his hands sliding around your waist. His touch was warm, and the way he looked at you made your heart skip. "Uh-huh. And you're not trying to distract me from finishing that gift?"
"Would I do that?" you asked, tilting your head coyly.
"You absolutely would," he said, leaning in closer. "And you're doing a great job of it."
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck as the song continued to play. "Fine, maybe I am. But can you blame me? Santa deserves a little fun too, doesn't he?"
Nicholas chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. "Santa's supposed to be the one handing out the gifts, not getting distracted by someone who can't behave."
"Oh, I can behave," you said, your voice low and teasing. "But where's the fun in that?"
The music swirled around you, the playful lyrics setting the tone for the moment. Nicholas pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm. The way he moved was effortless, like he was made for moments like this—charming, confident, and just the right amount of mischievous.
"You're trouble," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.
"And yet, here you are," you replied with a grin.
The song shifted to its jazzy crescendo, and you twirled out of his hold, laughing as you spun back into his arms. Nicholas caught you easily, his grip firm but gentle as he dipped you backward. His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you, the firelight reflecting in them.
"Santa might need a little more convincing," he said, his voice a low rumble.
"Is that so?" you asked, breathless.
Nicholas smirked, pulling you upright again. "Maybe. What else do you have up your sleeve?"
You grabbed a sprig of mistletoe from the nearby table and held it over your head, arching a brow. "This do the trick?"
He laughed, his hands sliding up to cup your face. "You're impossible," he said softly, right before his lips met yours in a kiss that was both playful and tender.
The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into the moment. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled. "Merry Christmas, baby."
You grinned, your heart full as you replied, "Merry Christmas, Santa."
The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, kisses, and stolen moments beneath the glow of the Christmas tree. And as the first flakes of snow began to fall again outside, you knew this Christmas was one you'd never forget.
