Because there needs to be more of these two
.*.
The tinsel had to be draped just so.
Lamitt jumped again, trying to fling the clinging silver strands further up the tree. Ardbert was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sorting piles of leftover ornaments and empty boxes. She was unsure how he had gotten the short job while she got the tall one. Probably because he'd snagged the boxes before she could.
Their apartment was comfortably quiet, the faintest sound of traffic on the avenue below mixing with some sprightly jingle coming from the radio, broken every so often by Lamitt's periodic grunts of effort.
"You need a step stool?" Ardbert asked archly from behind her.
Lamitt huffed in triumph as another few staticky strands clung to the tree. "No. I do not. I'm thirty, not three."
"Are you sure?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm aware of how old I am, thank you very much. I'm the one who robbed the cradle, Ardbert, not you."
"Is that what we're calling that now? Five years' different is robbing the cradle?" he mused, poking through the last of the boxes they'd dragged out of storage.
"With the childish way you're pointing out my height, I'd say yes." Their back-and-forth made her smile as she picked off lingering tinsel strands from her fingers and draped them on the tree. With the hospital having her work longer shifts, she hadn't been able to spend as much time at home as she liked. It was a nice feeling to come home to.
She eyed the tree once more, looking for any bare patches she might have missed. It all looked equally distributed … except for the top. Which was still out of reach.
Ardbert had finally gotten up to stand next to her and she glanced at him questioningly. Asking him would be to invite affectionate ridicule at the obvious bare spot, but … "What do you think?"
His blue eyes examined the dripping tinsel, the bits closest to the vents fluttering with the warm air. Layered over the glass ornaments and the little twinkling lights, it looked perfect. Except—
"Are you sure you got it all? I'm certain you could reach it if you—"
"I don't need a step stool!"
"So stubborn," he tsked. Without warning, Ardbert abruptly hoisted her up into his arms. Lamitt yelped and grabbed his shoulder before she could tip over. "Before you say anything—no, I am not a step stool." He shot a glance up at her. "I'm the next best thing." Shifting her weight to one arm, he swiftly snagged the tinsel box and handed it to her.
Lamitt cradled it in her hands for a moment as she looked down at the top of his head. Normally being at eye-level with his chest, it was a strange perspective looking at him from this height. And he seemed to like lifting her up a lot. He called her stubborn, but she knew he wouldn't quit if he knew there was a good chance of winning. Stubborn and spontaneous were excellent words for a man like Ardbert. She still wasn't quite sure how they'd managed to fall in together, even several years after their first inauspicious meeting.
"Hurry up. You may be tiny, but you're not light," Ardbert grumbled from beneath her.
Lamitt sighed and drew out a handful of silver strands. "Such love." Leaning forward as far as she could go, Ardbert's arms tightening around her legs, she finished draping the top of the tree.
He seemed to have forgotten her weight as they admired the tree in companionable silence. "It looks good," he offered. Lamitt draped a piece of tinsel over his brown hair. It'd look better tied in a bow, but she didn't have time for that right now.
She patted his shoulder. "Okay. Down."
He dutifully settled her back onto the carpet and she went back to being the short one in the relationship. Lamitt glanced around at the mess they'd made of the ornament boxes, fake pine needles embedding themselves in the carpet. Vacuum next, she supposed. Or boxes. Ugh. "Okay, tree's done, all that's left is the—"
Ardbert snagged her around the waist before she could get another step, and promptly plopped her back down on the couch next to him. She squeaked and tried to extricate herself, only to be foiled yet again. She could feel the warm vibration of his laugh. "No, don't get up. Just sit down and relax for a moment. Not everyone can go your speed."
She squirmed around until she was more comfortably wedged against his side. "Then you need to try to keep up. I only go one speed." She arched a brow at him from where she was nested in his arms.
"And don't I know it." Ardbert laughingly hugged her tighter. With snow slowly piling up on the windowsills and the fairy lights twinkling down on the avenue below, it was feeling more and more like a winter wonderland and Lamitt gratefully soaked in his warmth. "I'm glad you were able to take the time off," he said into her hair.
"Well, I had the option between changing out bedpans or spending time with you. The choice was as difficult as it sounds."
"I'm glad I won out over bedpans." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Merry Christmas, Lamitt."
"Merry Christmas, Ardbert."
.