"Happy anniversary."

Ven gaped at Vanitas, unable to focus on the box in his hands. "Don't you mean 'Merry Christmas'?"

It was just the two of them this year—Ven had argued he owed Vanitas a year with his family, though he knew Vanitas's parents would be absent yet again, and that Xion had her own plans. Being on their own suited Ven just fine—and Vanitas even more so. Since they had Vanitas's house all to themselves, it had been another romantic dinner, the likes of which Ven hadn't been treated to since Valentine's Day. And now they were cozied up on the couches, exchanging gifts while sipping on hot cocoa, with Flood—who had grown from a minuscule baby to a rowdy young cat—bouncing around the room and playing with a Christmas ornament that he'd snatched from the tree. Vanitas didn't seem to mind.

Vanitas shrugged at Ven's comment. "I know which one matters more to me."

His gaze was so earnest that Ven had to look away, and when he blinked, he could feel a few tears clinging to his eyelids. "I—didn't really get you anything. Well, not for our anniversary."

"That's fine. I didn't get you anything for Christmas. We're even." Vanitas jiggled the box in his hands slightly. "Come on. Just take it."

Gingerly, Ven picked up the box. It was small enough to hit in one hand, and light, and when he took it, it rustled ever so slightly. Ven's thoughts immediately went to jewelry, and to—

"Vanitas," he said, feeling his own face grow pale, "did you—"

Vanitas's brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "Come on. Open it."

Ven felt his own heart pounding as he tore the wrapping paper to uncover a small box, and inside—was a set of keys. Ven looked at them, then, frowning, back up at Vanitas. "I don't—"

"We found a place for me next year," he said. "My parents and I, I mean. It's a flat off-campus, and—I guess it's where I'll be living for four years starting in August, if everything goes according to plan."

Ven's mood sank instantly. They hadn't exactly talked about this yet, but he knew the conversation hung over their heads. They were high school seniors—graduation was a few months away, and after that, both of them were headed to college. And both already knew where they were going.

Only it wasn't the same place.

"So this is—" he said slowly, unsure.

"It's a key to that place. I want you to have it."

"But—"

"I'm not asking you to move in with me—not when you'll be halfway across the country. Just think of it as an open invitation, that you'll always be welcome."

Ven looked down at the keys, and he understood the message. It wasn't just about the keys, or about coming over—Vanitas could have just as easily told him he was welcome. This was a promise for the future. A statement that they weren't working on a countdown. "Vanitas—" he said, and he heard his own voice tremble.

"Oh no, don't you dare cry right now."

"I can't help it," Ven said, and even as he laughed, he felt a few tears run down his face. "You don't get to do that and just act surprised if I'm emotional."

"Fine," Vanitas said. He cupped Ven's face, gently rubbing his cheek with his thumb. Then he leaned in closer, pressing their foreheads together. "I love you."

"I love you too—"

"Please let me finish?" Only now did Ven hear the slight tremor in Vanitas's own voice. "I know we're still young. Anything could happen—even without going long distance. But I want to at least give it a chance, because you might be the best thing that's happened to me this year." He paused. "And I don't know if you noticed, but it's been a shitty year."

"Technically, we met last year," Ven couldn't help but say, chuckling through more tears.

"We dated for a whole week of it. This year was really the year of us." Vanitas paused. "But I hope it's only the first one. And I want you to know that. I want you to hear it from me."

Ven pulled away, and he caught the sudden look of worry on Vanitas's face, but he absolutely needed to dry his eyes or he'd never stop. "Okay," he said with a sniffle. "Thank you, Vanitas." Deep breath—anything to stay composed. "I feel the same way. I think you know it, but—I haven't said it to you either, because I was scared it'd be—" He drifted off.

"Too much?" Vanitas offered.

"Yeah." Ven looked down at the keys, still lying in their box. He picked them up, and closed his hands around it. "Every time we talk about the future, it's like—I want to have that future together. You have no idea what it means to me every time you tell me you do too. And you're right—there's always the maybes. But I'm glad to know that, at least right now, we agree on this." He brought his fist to his heart. "This means everything." Then, with a self-deprecating scoff, he said, "I wish I could give you the same thing, but I'm gonna be living in a dorm at least for my freshman year, and—"

Vanitas chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you feel the same."

"I do." He let out a soft chuckle. "And now I feel like my present's going to be a little underwhelming in comparison. You should have let me go first."

"I think the anticipation would have killed me," Vanitas replied, deadpan. "Think of it this way: technically, I didn't even buy you a present at all. I just gave you a symbol for something I always meant for you to have anyway."

"Well, when you put it like that, you are a lousy boyfriend," Ven retorted.

"I don't know how you put up with me."

"It's all for the cat. Speaking of—merry Christmas."

Ven grabbed his own present from where he'd left it at his feet, and handed it to Vanitas, who eyed it suspiciously. "'Speaking of'?" he asked, but Ven only held out the box until Vanitas took it. He opened the packaging with utter care, as if he was afraid to tear any of the wrapping paper, and Ven thought that was utterly adorable. Inside was a hollow box, and the look on Vanitas's face when he opened it was priceless. "It's—a picture of a cat tree," Vanitas said, eyeing Ven skeptically.

"The actual thing is in my car," Ven said. "It's kinda heavy. Surprise!"

"That's—actually really sweet." Vanitas glanced at Flood, who apparently decided this was an invitation, dashed across the living room and leapt onto his lap. "See that, little guy?" he said in a low, adoring voice, waving the paper in front of the cat's face, who just looked up at Vanitas, completely uninterested in what he was being shown. "Now you'll have something that's actually designed for you to demolish it!"

"I'm glad he enjoys his present," Ven said, unable to repress a smug smile as he drew an envelope from the front pocket of his hoodie. "Also, this one's for you."

"Have you been keeping that there this entire time? You dork."

Ven just shrugged. "The drama of this reveal would have worked a lot better if we hadn't just gotten so deep just now," he argued. "Come on, open it!"

Vanitas peeled the envelope open just as delicately as the box, and he slid the contents out slowly. When he finally read it, however, his eyes lit up as he looked at Ven. "Is that—tickets to Unchained Keys? But they sold out, like, instantly!"

Ven's smile grew just a little more smug. He'd been sitting on those tickets to see Vanitas's favorite band for a couple months now, and keeping that secret had been killing him. "I was very fast," he simply said. "Well, I did also wake up like, an hour early to get in the website queue. You know, like I told you you should do, but didn't anyway?"

"All right, if you're gonna be like that, I guess I'll go with Xion then." Ven's smile immediately fell, making Vanitas burst out laughing. "I'm kidding. Thank you." He leaned forward and kissed Ven. "This is amazing."

"They're for the Valentine's Day show, too," Ven said softly against Vanitas's lips.

"Oh? Well, maybe I'll have to bring you along, then."

"Is that a date?"

"I don't know, do you think we'll still be together by then?"

Ven chuckled. "Shut up, or I'll cry again."

"Wouldn't want that." Vanitas kissed him again, and Ven leaned into the kiss, giddy and elated. "I have a better idea." He stood up in a smooth motion, with a resolve that made Ven suspect this 'idea' of his wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment thing. "Come on. Put on your coat and your boots."

"We're—going outside?" Ven guessed.

Vanitas looked back at him with a smirk. "You'll see. Just trust me."

"You know I do," Ven said, and he meant it. As if Vanitas even needed to ask him. He was ready within a minute, and followed Vanitas to the backyard.

It had been snowing all day on Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day as well, and the garden was still covered in a thick, white coat of snow. All, Ven noted, except for a freshly cleared-out path, from the house's back door all the way to a blanket nest. "Did you do that right before I came back from—wait, is that why you sent me on an errand run?"

"Maybe," Vanitas said innocently. "Come on!"

He'd gone all-in; Ven counted at least five layers of blankets on the ground, and he didn't want to think about where Vanitas had found them—or how much cleanup work this would take him once they were done. In spite of the freezing cold and the snow all around them, the blankets themselves were soft, warm and comfortable when Ven settled on them—even more so once Vanitas joined him and wrapped an arm around them. "I saw the sky should be clear tonight," Vanitas said, "so I thought—"

He looked up, and Ven followed his gaze. He was right: above them, the night sky sprawled wide, unblemished by even a single cloud, the stars a glistening display above their heads.

"This is—magical," Ven simply said.

"I know you like astronomy, so I thought—"

"I do," Ven said. "It's perfect." He didn't even want to tarnish this with some self-deprecating joke about thoughtful gifts—even if, as far as he was concerned, Vanitas was clearly the winner here. He pressed his lips to Vanitas's cheek, then let himself fall back on the blankets, drawing Vanitas down with him. "I'm serious. Best anniversary ever."

"It's your first anniversary ever."

"I wasn't done. Best Christmas ever, too."

At the edge of his sight, he saw Vanitas looked at him with soft eyes, but his attention was on the stars. "That I can take," Vanitas simply said.

"I just wish I'd known to take a scarf with me," Ven said, suppressing a shudder.

"That's not a problem," Vanitas said, unwrapping his own.

"No, I couldn't—"

Before he could finish his protest, Vanitas wrapped his scarf around Ven's neck—as well as his own. "There. Guess you're stuck with me if you want to stay warm."

"Oh no," Ven said, deadpan. "Whatever shall I do."

Vanitas nuzzled closer to Ven. "My evil scheme is successful."

"It certainly is." Ven wasn't only thinking of this, though—but of the night as a whole. And of his—their—plans for the future. "I love you."

"I love you too."