You were exhausted. What time was it? The answer to that question was a mystery, but you knew it was way later then you'd like to be awake for. Annoying, muffled noise came from the telivision in front of you, and you were slightly aware of a gentle hand on your forehead. It felt nice, you had to admit, in your state of half-consciousness. He was humming a song that was all too familiar for you; it was a Christmas song. Personally, you'd never admit to your boyfriend- or anyone, for that matter- that you enjoyed the winter holiday. In truth, you didn't like most of it at all. The idea of Santa was ridiculous. Snow was cold, wet and disgusting. Even just the cheeriness of people around that time was absolutely revolting to you.
` Maybe, though, it wasn't all horrible.
The one thing you really loved about Christmas was the decorations. Streets upon streets of flashing lights and blow-up figurines, sometimes even synchronized to music and always absolutely spectacular. Who was loony enough to spend that kind of money on objects that you could only flaunt one time of the year? You had no idea. Maybe it was worth seeing little kids' eyes light up and dance with these decorations. Maybe it was worth glancing out your window to catch a few cars inching along the road, transfixed on the display in front of your yard. Maybe you would do it too, if you had the money, which you didn't.
Your name was Klaus Vantas, and you didn't really hate everything about Christmas.
The hand on your forehead slid itself around your neck, and another wrapped just as tightly to your legs, lifting you up. You snuggled into the man who was holding you tightly. He smelled like axe and Starbucks; familiar. As embarrassing as being carried to bed was, you weren't awake enough to object.
"Klaus...?" The not-so-deep voice of your boyfrend Eric aroused you slightly, but you still didn't move as he laid you onto your bed and pulled the covers up to your chin, then joined you a moment later. You didn't even have the energy to reply, and you heard him chuckle softly, then kiss your forehead. It was a matter of moments before you passed out.

It was still dark when you awoke much later, and one of the first things you were aware of was rain and wind hitting your bedroom window without relent. It was storming out. You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes and grumbling. Eric was nowhere to be found. Did he return home after you fell asleep?
The answer came a moment later in the form of a loud bang and a string of profanities from an unmistakeable voice. You slipped off of the bed lazily and made your way into the living room, where you were met with yet another surprise.
The house was... lit up. Lights were strung around the ceiling, flashing red and green and even white. There was a wreath hung neatly on the front door, and tinsel was wrapped around the staircase banister. Jingle Bells rang cheerily from the radio, and in the middle of it all was Eric himself, trapped in a cocoon of christmas lights. He wore purple lounge pants and his usual big, square glasses, topped off with a sequined santa hat. He waved weakly.
"Hey, Klaus." You raised an eyebrow.
"...What are you doing?" You knelt down next to him and started pulling at the lights, holding in a smile. Why did he do this? It looked amazing, but... how did he know? He shrugged.
"Decoratin'."
"How did you...?" You started to voice your thoughts and then trailed off, beginning to blush.
"You know you have a bad habit of sleeptalkin'. Silly." That statement took you off guard and you squeaked, falling backwards. "H-Hey, don't get like that! It's cute. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
A moment of silence passed.
"...Yeah." You looked down, tugging again. "Thanks."
"I love you."
"Sh-shut up!"
Eric just grinned.