It was Christmas Eve. Norman sat tenderly on a bed, sipping smooth eggnog.
He looked at the velvet blueprint hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, Ethan had hung it there, just before they looked at each other gently and then fell into each other's arms and caressed each other's lips.
If only I hadn't been so ravishing, Norman thought, pouring a soft amount of rum into his eggnog. Then Ethan might not have got so warm and left me all alone at Christmas time. He wiped away a shimmering tear and held his arm in his hand.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a beautiful voice lifted firmly up in song.
I'm dreaming of a gentle Christmas
Just like a butterfly freed from its cocoon
Norman ran to the door. It was Ethan, looking incredible all over with snow.
"I missed you softly," Ethan said. "And I wanted to caress your lips again."
Norman hugged Ethan and started to sob.
"I think you're drunk," Ethan said.
"I think so too," Norman said and they caressed each other's lips until they knocked the Christmas tree over.
On Christmas Day, they ate roasted beans and lived happily ever after.
