blue | a collection of tronnor oneshots

when i think of christmas

"when I think of Christmas I think of your eyes.
blues a festive color and they seem to hold it beautifully.

when I think of Christmas I think of your hair, hair so rich and delicate that even the sweetest of chocolates are jealous.

when I think of Christmas I think of your feet making patterns in wet grass as we strolled through Central Park where you first mentioned marriage.

when I think of Christmas I think of last year, spending it with my family and sharing that part of my life with you.

when I think of Christmas I think of your old denim jacket, the one my brother accidentally took to Hawaii, the one you cried over because your whole outfit was ruined and it's Christmas Day god damnit! even though you never blamed anyone but yourself.

when I think of Christmas I think of laying in the snow and telling you stories of my childhood, past friends and ex lovers.

when I think of Christmas I think of hot coffee and cuddling, my old fireplace and your bare skin.

when I think of Christmas I think of plans for children, skyping with your parents, and the way your sweaters fit so good.

when I think of Christmas I think of the way it feels when you touch me and the amount of pleasure your voice gives when you mutter simple words.

'I love you.'
'do you want breakfast?'
'play with my hair.'
'kiss me.'

when I think of Christmas I think of your hands. soft, pale, hands of an angel I'd say.

when I think of Christmas I think of the way you smell. cinnamon, vanilla, pine needles. I can drown in it.

when I think of Christmas I think of your voice. smooth like silk and sickeningly sweet like honey.

'hey Connie, where's the avocados?'
'do you wanna go for a walk?'
'you make me so happy.'
'kiss me again.'

when I think of you I think of Christmas. laying here in front of me in nothing but sweats and a Santa hat, the fire lighting your skin, and the softest smile gracing your face. I love you Troye."

He laughs, his head resting against the carpet as he does, his eyes tracing my form where I sit criss cross beside him.

"You are so cheesy." I smile, looking at my hands bashfully.

"Good cheesy or bad cheesy?" He doesn't answer for a moment, sitting up to cup my jaw and lift my eyes to his.

"Good cheesy, definitely good." Then his warm lips are pressed to mine in the sweetest manner with only one thought clogging my mind.

Thank God for Christmas.
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a/n
might do another Christmassy thing *shrugs* hope you liked.