Merry Christmas - Andrew Lincoln

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You and your fiancé Andrew had just had a fight that resulted in you going to stay with your grandmother for a few days; you were lounging on her sofa, watching a classic Christmas film, when the doorbell chimed. Immediately, you got up and walked to the front door in order to answer it.
Your jaw fell slack when you saw Andrew stood out in the blistering cold, a large white card in his hands that read: "Forgive me, please?" and an apologetic smile on his face.

"You're forgiven," you chuckled, smiling brightly when he dropped the card to reveal another that said: "Merry Christmas", which made you grin and reach for his hand. "Come here, you know I can't stay mad at you."

"I thought you would've," Andrew admitted, dropping the other card and stepping inside, automatically, he wrapped his arms around you; you squeaked when his damp, cold, coat touched your skin, which made him chuckle and apologise softly. You smiled up at him for a few moments before stepping behind him and helping him get his coat off, you then draped it over the radiator and invited him into the living room with you; the second he sat down, Andrew gently pulled you onto his lap and pressed his forehead against yours. "Merry Christmas, (Y/N)."

"Merry Christmas, Andy," you whispered, quickly kissing his almost freezing lips. "You're fucking freezing."

"And you're fucking smoking," he teased with a small smirk. "I love you."

"I love you too."

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