The first snow of December began to fall just as you arrived at the annual Christmas tree lighting in your small town square. The air was crisp, and the twinkling lights wrapped around every tree branch gave the place a magical glow. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, shivering slightly as you scanned the crowd for Nicholas.
"Looking for someone?" his familiar voice called from behind you.
You turned, and there he was. Nicholas stood there with that signature smile, his cheeks pink from the cold, a beanie pulled low over his thick hair. He looked effortlessly handsome in a dark coat and scarf, holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands.
"You're late," you teased, taking one of the cups he offered.
"Fashionably late," he corrected with a wink. "But I brought reinforcements." He gestured to the hot chocolate, and you couldn't help but laugh.
The two of you strolled through the festive scene, stopping to admire the ornaments on the giant Christmas tree and watching little kids skate on the makeshift ice rink. Nicholas seemed completely at ease, joking and pointing out the worst-dressed snowmen among the town's decorations. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something about tonight was different.
As the band began to play Mistletoe by Justin Bieber, Nicholas slowed his pace and gently grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the gazebo in the middle of the square. The crowd around you blurred into the background as his eyes locked on yours.
"You know," he said, his voice softer now, "this is my favorite time of the year. Not because of the snow or the lights or even the music."
You tilted your head, smiling up at him. "Oh? Then what's your favorite part?"
"It's this," he replied, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Spending it with you."
Your heart skipped as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against the winter chill. Above you, a sprig of mistletoe swayed gently, strung from the edge of the gazebo.
"I couldn't let this moment pass," he murmured, his lips curving into a soft smile.
Before you could respond, he closed the gap, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. The world seemed to pause—no cold, no noise, just the feeling of being completely wrapped up in him. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with warmth and mischief.
"Mistletoe," he said, pointing up. "It's tradition."
You laughed, shaking your head as your cheeks burned in the best way. "How convenient."
"Hey, I don't make the rules," he teased, lacing his fingers with yours. "But I do know one thing—I'd rather spend tonight and every night under that mistletoe with you."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of music, laughter, and stolen glances. Nicholas didn't leave your side once, holding your hand as you walked through the snow-dusted square, sharing quiet conversations that only deepened your connection.
As the night came to an end, he walked you to your door, the stars twinkling brightly above. Before you went inside, he leaned in once more, brushing his lips softly against yours.
"Merry Christmas," he whispered, his voice full of warmth and sincerity.
"Merry Christmas, Nicholas," you replied, your heart full as you watched him disappear down the snowy path, already counting the moments until you'd see him again.
