"Shanks?" I asked quietly, rubbing away the sleepiness that clung to me. "What are you doing love?" I questioned. Though the scene that lay before was admittedly quite hilarious, my red-headed lover lying on his stomach in front of our fireplace and dutifully watching it.
"Shhh!" Shanks hissed to me, whipping his head around for just a moment before flicking to face the fireplace once more. "If you're not quiet then Santa will know we're watching and he won't fill the stockings and leave presents."
"Seriously? Didn't your parents ever tell you that Santa isn't real?" I sighed, voicing my thoughts just barely under my breath. However, my stupid lover was either to focused on his task to have heard me or just ignored my comment. "Okay you overgrown man-child, bedtime," I stated, grabbing Shanks by his remaining wrist while dragging him off to our bed.
"Noooooo~" Shanks groaned, trying to tug his arm out of my vice-like grip with no success. "I wanna see Santa~~~" He continued to struggle, but soon gave up his fruitless struggling and simply flopped. Forcing me to drag his whole weight.
"Don't you know? Santa already knows if you're awake or asleep, and if you're not asleep he won't come." I argued, hoping to fool him and get him back to bed.
"WHAT?! Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" Shanks shouted before zooming past me towards our room. The only downside to this development? He was now dragging me along as he rushed through our apartment, literally tossing me onto our bed and leaping beside me, uttering a faint 'good night' before he was out like a light.
"Good night Shanks, may your dreams be filled with gingerbread and gumdrops," I whispered softly to my lover, placing a light kiss on his forehead before curling into his chest and falling asleep myself.