Here's the last one for today. Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing, your support with this fic is amazing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you all taking the time to leave a review, it really does mean a lot to me. Hope you enjoy this one and if you can, it would be awesome to hear your thoughts.
10: Tinsel
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Nick Jordan mumbled something incoherent as he was roused from his peaceful slumber by a muffled thumping noise coming from downstairs. He rolled over, his hand automatically falling to the space next to him. It was empty, cold. She had obviously gotten up a while ago and from that, he deduced that it was in fact her making all the racket. Reluctantly, he peeled himself from the warm bed and picked up his dressing gown, shrugging it on.
As he padded down the stairs, he tied the cord around his waist in a neat bow, still thoroughly confused by the muffled but irritating noises coming from the lounge. He had planned to have a lie in that morning but it seemed she had other ideas.
"Yvonne what are you-" He paused in the doorway, unable to comprehend the sight he saw in front of him. The lounge now had several garlands of different coloured tinsel tacked to the wall, all done by the woman who quite happily admits she hates Christmas.
She turned at the sound of his voice, nearly falling off of the step ladder. "It's pretty!"
Her voice was full of glee, much like the way she had been when he'd given her that cup of hot chocolate that he had bought her and he couldn't help but smile, her obvious delight was infectious. Perhaps she was coming round to the idea of Christmas. He certainly hoped that was the case.
Nick rubbed a hand over his eyes sleepily, realising for the first time just how tired he was. "It's bright, certainly." He answered. "But did this have to be done at-" he glanced over at the clock on the wall which now had red tinsel draped around it. "Eight am on a Sunday?"
Yvonne shrugged in response. "It's done now." She jumped down off of the step ladder and placed both the staple gun and the hammer down on the highest step of said step ladder – why on earth she had both implements in her hand, he had no idea – before moving into his arms. "What do you think?"
"It's..." he paused, trying to think of the right word to describe the now colourful lounge. "It's lovely."
"You don't like it?"
"No, no, I didn't say that. It looks great." He reassured her, running his thumb down her side gently. "Anyway, I thought you didn't like Christmas?"
"I don't. I like tinsel."
Nick laughed. "I can see that."