Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.
December 13
9:12 p.m.
Bella let out a loud, dramatic sigh and closed the book she was reading, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. I eyed her before turning my attention back to the rival music blog that had just released their list of top fifty albums of the year.
"I don't think I can move in with you," she blurted out.
Without blinking, I shut my laptop and set it on the table next to the bed. "You didn't even take an entire day to think about it," I accused. "You could've at least waited until after my famous omelet breakfast tomorrow. I was sure you'd say yes while in a love-induced food coma."
"Don't let my decision stop you from spreading your omelet love all over me," Bella said in a serious tone, rolling to lie on her stomach. "I just can't live with you."
"Enlighten me," I pushed, rubbing my foot up and down her leg.
She smiled and propped herself up on her elbows. "Playing footsie is not going to convince me to move in with you."
"It was worth a try. C'mon, what's your deal? I know you think I'm cute," I teased as she sat up. "Uh oh. You're sitting cross-legged. This is about to get serious."
"I can't move in with you because you're a Scrooge," she announced.
I gasped and rubbed her knee. "Me? No."
"You? Yes. You don't even have a Christmas tree!"
"Lots of people don't have Christmas trees," I pointed out, rolling my eyes. "I'm thinking of your safety. So many fire hazards."
She pulled the elastic band out of her hair as she said, "Not only do you not have a tree, but you didn't give a shilling to the Salvation Army Santa yesterday when we were leaving the store."
"I...what? A shilling? Do you feel okay?" I questioned with concern.
"I feel fine! Unlike poor, crippled Tiny Tim with his vitamin D deficiency."
"What in the world?" I felt Bella's forehead with the back of my hand. "No fever, so...the only thing I can think of is that you're just losing your mind."
"I'm okay with losing my mind. Better than losing my son to renal failure," she deadpanned.
"Are you bringing up Tiny Tim for a second time?" I asked and she nodded. "Dickens was very vague regarding Tiny Tim's illness. I don't think it was ever revealed what was wrong with him. You just assumed kidney failure?"
"Whatever. The point is that I can't live with a Scrooge."
"Ah, so there's a point to all of this?" I jokingly asked before she tossed a pillow at my head.
"Yes, there is a point. Kind of."
"Look. It's not a big deal." I shrugged, resting my hands behind my head. "I just don't...do Christmas."
"It's not a choice."
I side eyed the wall before looking back at this crazy, gorgeous girl sitting on my bed, getting worked up because I didn't make a big deal over a holiday. "Uh. Yeah, I think it is a choice."
"Well, you're choosing the wrong choice!" she shrieked, causing me to laugh at her outburst. "You attended your work Christmas party. That's doing Christmas," she said with crossed arms.
"I only attend those parties because there's usually an open bar...and some weirdo who shows up in an ugly Christmas sweater," I admitted before chuckling at her scowl.
"You drank eggnog last night."
"Christmas aside, eggnog is delicious and anyone who denies it is a fool."
Bella sighed, dropping her head in her hands. I tugged at the hem of her shirt and she peeked through her hands, smiling as I held out my arms. She curled next to me as I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, kissing the side of her head.
"Scrooge aside, I really like your fine ass."
I let out a throaty laugh at her statement. "Fine. You know what? If Christmas is that big of a deal to you, I'm going to smother you with Christmas spirit for the next twelve days."
"Really?" she asked excitedly.
"Yep. I'm gonna rock around the Christmas tree," I grinned as she giggled, pinching my side.
"You won't regret it."
"I'm gonna deck the halls with boughs of holly."
She laughed, burying her head against my chest. "Hell yeah. That's the spirit."
"Don't even get me started on what I'm gonna do to the chestnuts that are roasting on an open fire," I said with seriousness, trying not to laugh at how fucking ridiculous this was.
"Okay, this is getting odd, but I can't wait."
"I'll do Christmas for you. You'll see, baby. You'll see."
A/N: I'm spreading my omelet love all over y'all for not giving me side eye because I'm clearly not done with these two yet. Blame the Christmas spirit. And who doesn't like the mental image of Edward handling roasted nuts? Sigh. Thanks for reading.
(& yes, I'm going to post a few more updates of him smothering her with Christmas spirit.)
