12 Days of Christmas.

December 3rd

To say you were excited to decorate for Christmas would be an understatement. Last year, with Tom busy working and you not officially living there, the only sign of festive cheer in the flat had been a rather sad looking artificial tree, pre-lit and scarcely decorated. Not this year, though, oh no. This year, you were going to deck the shit out of these halls.

At first you'd been worried Tom would feel like you were taking over his space, suffocating him even, but that couldn't have been farther from the truth. He was beyond excited for your first Christmas living together, and he loved that you felt comfortable enough to decorate, like it really was your home too. So, after you dropping several hints - that wreath's cute, don't you think?; what's your opinion on nutcrackers?; do you think you can get fake snow that's non-toxic to dogs? - he'd given you free-reign. Go nuts, babe, he'd said. Poor choice of words.

"Okay, before I show you, I have three things to say in my defence," you said as you led Tom by the hand down the hall. "One, I fucking love Christmas. Two, I was left unsupervised -"

"Oh God, that sounds ominous-"

"-shush. And three, you said, and I quote, 'go nuts'."

"Did I?" Tom laughed.

You nodded, biting your lip to try and contain the smile tugging at your lips.

"Go on then, show me."

Turning on the spot, you pushed open the door to the spare bedroom. You looked over your shoulder to see Tom's reaction as you stepped into the room, moving aside so he could see. Bags and boxes covered the bed, plastic bags filled with tinsel overflowing onto the bare mattress. There were dozens of small boxes piled up at the top, each containing a bubblewrapped ornament. Bigger boxes were stacked on the floor, pictures of the wreaths and garlands inside them decorating the packaging.

"I uh, I bought a tree, too, but we need to go pick it up," you mumbled, leaving out the 'because it's seven feet tall and I couldn't get it home by myself' part.

You were practically vibrating with excitement, chewing anxiously on your bottom lip as you waited for Tom's reaction. Yes you'd bought too much stuff, and maybe you didn't need that many fairy lights, but he did say-

"Okay," Tom nodded, turning to you with a smile. "You wanna go now, or..?"

"Can we?" you squeaked, nodding vigorously.

"Sure," Tom laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're so fucking cute."

-

Three hours, two gingerbread lattes, and one tree-stairwell-related fiasco later, and you were back in the living room. Surrounded by boxes and bags and packaging, you had a festive candle burning and Christmas music playing as you decorated. A wreath was hanging on the front door, a garland was strung up above the TV, and the tree was standing tall in the corner. You'd already wrapped it in tinsel and strung up the lights - all that was left to do was to hang the ornaments.

A box of gold baubles sat on the coffee table between you and Tom, a mix of matte, shiny and glittery orbs lined up in neat rows. Your fingers brushed his every now and again when you both reached into the box at the same time, and it was kind of ridiculous given how long you'd been together but it still made your stomach do a little flip. You smiled, watching him considering where to hang the glittery bauble in his hand.

"What?" he glanced over at you, feeling your eyes on him.

You shook your head, going back to your own side of the tree. "Nothing."