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✝ Just think happy thoughts
And we'll fly home. ✝
--- *** --- --- A Several Hours Later or So ---
Once the Christmas Eve's episode slowly but surely became a victim of the commonly frigid, nevertheless, gracefully esthetic night looking the small city of Massachusetts' sky like a floating tiny leaf pelting down once the fashionably light autumn breeze waltzed, thereafter the dining table in the kitchen was cozily equipped with a couple of authentically unique bowls and plates full of scrumptious meatless meals. The dining table's uniquely meaningful ornament wasn't solely interpreted in the troop of bowls, dishes and a bottle of creamy wine remarkably deposited, besides the very dances of the fiendishly jovial, tiny flares of the ignited candlesticks, but also the efficiently authentic notion of coziness and familiarity imbuing the kitchen's ambience and high spirits in general.
Just an hour before midnight and having a handful of glasses of white wine, consequently the absolute convenience inculcated the couch that was occupied by your and Timothy's frail skeletons curling up in a promisingly inviting, doting snuggle binding your almost immobile muscles. The genuinely sultry sensation of the warm, luscuously afflictive wine-stained breaths faintly fanning the nape of your neck and a luxurious batch of electrifying horripilation spiking your delicate epidermis momentarily. The incessant contraction of your eyelids while trading magnificently bewitching ogles kindling the very flares of the fierce passion, murderous desire and savage love formatting its outstanding medley.
The indubitably stable firmness of the affectionate snuggle on the couch bonded you in every single way your one of a kind, potent chemistry's potential. The spirituality and the mentality of sensing two of kind nobodies truly made for each other not mewling any single word except solemnly dedicating themselves to the brilliantly crystal doldrum asphyxiating the Christmas Eve's nocturnal episode accompanied by the hallowed symphony of hitched breaths and meekly quiet moans scorching banefully your berry-coloured tongues.
"It's so cozy there, Y/N!" At the moment, the heavenly intoxicating nuzzle against your button nose channelized to chime you molting one another into an angelically breathtaking Eskimo kiss, meagerly inching your youthful façades from one another. In the meantime, your femininely velvet, seamless arms braced the older gentleman's muscly upper back, whereas the heart pulses' vehemently megawatt accelerated due to the preternaturally intoxicating intimacy syncing the meager distance.
"Yeah especially with the exact company to keep you letting you hair down," A quarter a minute after molting solemnly into the starkly bewitching Eskimo kiss, throughout you manifested your naturally roseate, insatiable cherub lips to press a forceful peck to the older gentleman's nose, shepherding categorically its piercingly jovial, noxious snickers purring seamlessly beneath its wee scale of proximity you traded with each other eventually. Broadly angelic grins enchased meaningfully precious across your nude, cherub lips and rippling your lower eyelids that endured stoical the ethereally ominous mirth ornamenting its luxurious luster on your façades. "However, it's such a humongous honor to share Christmas with you, Tim!" Honeyed purr expelled villainously baneful from your mouth whilst dawdling your pools of abysmally vibrant E/C pronging Timothy's cinnamon brown, bearing a semblance of satelites' thin elasticity preternaturally stealthy retroacting to the adequate stabilization kindling its very flares in the bewitchingly spellbind eye contact. Or it could be interpreted also as the uniquely authentic art of eye contact and its twain of moons plowing into each other inevitably apocalyptic as if the Judgdmental's day loomed on the horizon, besides staining deleteriously the invisibly unstoppable clock of the unnerving tick of the progressing time.
