Christmas Eve dawned softly, snow dusting the windowsill. Ariel and Holly lingered over breakfast—fluffy scrambled eggs and hot cinnamon toast, sunlight slanting across the table. Holly wore a giant red sweater with a sequined snowman, her hair twisted up in a messy bun. Ariel, still in cozy pajamas, was halfway through a mug of cocoa and humming along with the holiday playlist on her phone.
“So,” Ariel started, dabbing her toast in cocoa, “what’s the plan today? More last-minute shopping? Or are you finally going to let me peek in the closet?”
Holly gave her a dramatic gasp. “You know the rules! No peeking, not even on Christmas Eve. That’s...” Her phone dinged, interrupting her declaration. She glanced at it, eyes widening. “Oh! Um...hang on.” Shit!
Ariel squinted, instantly suspicious. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Holly said too quickly, standing up so fast she nearly toppled her chair. “Just, uh, weather app. It says… blizzard warning. We should get you somewhere safe!” She darted over to Ariel, herding her out of the kitchen with gently flapping arms.
Ariel chuckled, resisting playfully. “Are you trying to hide something, Miss Sinclair?”
“No!” Holly insisted, trying to steer Ariel down the hall. “I just think you should spend some quality time in the bedroom. Maybe… meditate. Or… reorganize your sock drawer.”
Ariel planted her feet, grinning, making herself extra heavy and slow. “Oh no, I think I’m getting slower, Hol. I might need a little push.”
Holly groaned, but she was laughing. “You are impossible.” She got behind Ariel, pushing her gently, but Ariel leaned back, her weight making it nearly impossible for Holly to budge her.
Ariel giggled, wiggling her hips. “Sorry, babe. I’m too well-fed. You’ll have to try harder.”
Holly huffed, but the corners of her mouth twitched with a smile. “Fine! I have no shame.” She wrapped her arms around Ariel’s waist from behind and started tickling her sides.
Ariel squealed, wriggling and laughing. “Unfair! Tickling is cheating!”
“Desperate times!” Holly cried, shoving just enough for Ariel to stumble forward. Still laughing, Holly managed to herd her into the bedroom, spun her around, and shut the door with a triumphant “Ha!”
Ariel, breathless with laughter, flopped onto the bed, grinning.
“Give me five minutes!” Holly called through the door, already rushing off to wrangle the package inside.
Ariel shook her head, beaming, a warm glow in her chest. “Merry Christmas Eve to me,” she murmured, perfectly content.
The moment the bedroom door clicked shut, Holly bolted for the front door, socks sliding on the hardwood. She yanked it open and froze for a second, jaw dropping. The box outside was enormous, nearly as tall as the doorknob and almost as wide as the doorframe. “Holy moly,” she whispered.
From down the hall, Ariel called out, voice muffled but mischievous: “Everything okay out there? Sounds awfully quiet for a blizzard!”
Holly gritted her teeth and wrapped her arms around the giant box, trying to shimmy it inside. “Nothing to see here! Just…uh, fighting the wind!” The box scraped across the floor, and Holly grunted, inching it across the threshold with every ounce of her strength. It made a noise not unlike a whale being beached.
“Are you…moving furniture?” Ariel asked, clearly enjoying herself. “Or building a barricade in case of snow zombies?”
“Don’t make me laugh, you!” Holly gasped, huffing and puffing as she awkwardly spun the box sideways to clear the doorframe. “I am doing…very important…holiday business!”
She finally managed to haul the box fully inside and took a moment to catch her breath. Ariel was still going, voice sing-song through the door: “I’m just picturing you out there, wrestling a reindeer or something.”
Holly shot a look at the closed bedroom door, hands on her hips. “Maybe I am! Reindeer are notoriously heavy, you know!”
After a second wind, Holly started pushing the box down the hall. It bumped into the baseboards, then wobbled into the hallway table, nearly knocking over a bowl of keys. “Oh my god...turn, turn, turn,” Holly muttered, trying to steer.
Ariel piped up again, feigning concern, “Is my girlfriend being defeated by an unknown adversary?”
Holly couldn’t help but laugh. “You hush! I’m nearly done. Don’t you dare open that door, McIntyre!”
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Ariel’s reply was delightfully smug. “Can’t hear you over the sound of my absolute compliance!”
With one final, determined push, Holly shoved the box into the hallway closet, slamming the door shut before collapsing against it in triumph, cheeks flushed and heart racing. “Mission accomplished,” she declared under her breath.
Louder, she called out, “Okay! All clear! Crisis averted. You’re safe to return to civilization, Red!”
Ariel’s laughter drifted from the bedroom as the door creaked open, her eyes full of playful suspicion and affection. “Next time, I’m helping. Or at least providing play-by-play commentary in person.”
Holly, still catching her breath, grinned. “Only if you promise not to sit on the box while I’m trying to move it.”
Ariel waggled her eyebrows. “No promises.”
By the afternoon, the apartment was alive with holiday energy. Ariel and Holly agreed on a ceasefire: no peeking, no sleuthing, only pure, honest wrapping. “Swear on your cinnamon roll privileges,” Holly declared, holding out a pinky. Ariel solemnly hooked her pinky around Holly’s and sealed the truce.
Holly closed her eyes, hands over her face, and counted loudly as Ariel ducked into the bedroom to retrieve her hidden stash of gifts, all tucked into plain shopping bags. She clutched each one tight as she tiptoed past Holly, who was humming with her eyes squeezed shut, and into the kitchen, door closing behind her.
Ariel spread out her haul on the table:
The Cozy Capybara: that cozy indie Switch game Holly had been pining for, now neatly wrapped with a game shop sticker.
A set of retro magical girl anime pins, their pastel colors shining even through the packaging.
A pastel enamel desk clock shaped like Koguma, the sleepy bear mascot from Holly’s favorite slice-of-life anime. The one she always paused to admire in the niche merch shop window on 4th.
Tucked quietly to one side, the limited-edition coffee sampler.
And the final item...A pink Junimo plush she found online.
While Ariel got started, Holly made her way to the hallway closet, grunting as she tried (and failed) to quietly wrestle the huge gaming chair box out into the hall, then toward the bedroom. “All clear out there?” she called through her struggles.
“Perfectly clear!” Ariel replied from the kitchen. “Just the sound of honest gift-wrapping. Nothing suspicious at all!”
A loud thud echoed from the hallway. Holly huffed. “If anyone asks, this is part of the assembly instructions. Step four: wrestle the box like a bear.”
Ariel grinned as she wrapped the plushie, making sure the bow was extra dramatic. “Would you like a referee’s whistle?”
“Only if you’re ready to hear me sing the Rocky theme.”
They kept the banter going through the wall as Christmas music played, Ariel’s playlist filling the apartment with soft carols, pop anthems, and a little Mariah just to earn a groan from Holly. Ariel printed out the honeymoon confirmation, tucking the letter into an envelope. Grabbing the pink Junimo, she taped the envelope under its leaf, boxed it up and wrapped it.
Every so often, Holly’s voice floated out from the bedroom:
“How much tape is too much tape?”
“If I put three bows on one box, is that festive or a cry for help?”
“I promise, no gifts are alive in here… I think.”
Ariel, taping the last pin to a sheet of bubble wrap, called back, “Just don’t get stuck under anything you can’t lift!”
“I get stuck under you all the time! I’ll manage!” Holly shot back, laughing.
Wrapping finished, both emerged in the hallway with arms full of lumpy, colorfully wrapped gifts. They placed them carefully under the twinkling tree, sharing a proud, conspiratorial grin.
Holly gave Ariel’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Tomorrow’s going to be the best one yet. I can feel it.”
Ariel nodded, her heart full, already picturing Holly’s face when she saw each present.
And with the truce still in effect, they slipped back into the living room, ready for the quiet magic of Christmas Eve together.
Night fell quietly, the apartment aglow with Christmas lights and the gentle twinkle of their little tree. Dinner was long finished: Holly’s legendary baked mac and cheese with crispy breadcrumbs, glazed carrots, and Ariel so comfortably, deliciously stuffed she could hardly move.
Now they curled together on the couch, snuggled under soft blankets, each cradling a hand-painted mug of cocoa, Ariel’s with vines and silver stars, Holly’s with a pastel frog and a rainbow. The mini marshmallows on top slowly melted, leaving white clouds on chocolatey peaks.
On TV, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer played, stop-motion figures wobbling through snowy scenes. Ariel’s head rested on Holly’s shoulder, eyes drifting shut, while Holly absently stroked her hair.
“Okay, but hear me out,” Holly whispered. “The Abominable Snowman? Total cuddler. He just needs some love.”
Ariel grinned sleepily. “You just want to adopt him.”
“I mean… look at him! He’d fit right in with us. Though he’d probably need a custom mug.”
Ariel smiled, squeezing Holly’s hand. “We'll make him one.”
They both giggled softly, enjoying the quiet. The world outside faded, the warmth of their home filling up all the empty spaces.
Ariel sighed, feeling the gentle weight of the moment. “I can’t believe tomorrow’s our first Christmas together. It feels… kind of huge, doesn’t it?”
Holly nodded, her voice soft and earnest. “Yeah. I’ve never done Christmas like this before. No big family mess, no stress. Just… this. It’s all I ever wanted.”
Ariel glanced at the twinkling tree, then at Holly. “Me too. I want every year to be like this. Just us, and cocoa, and whatever weird old movies you put on.”
Holly grinned. “Deal. We’ll make our own traditions. Pottery mugs, mac and cheese, and bad reindeer impressions.”
They swapped silly holiday stories from their pasts: Holly’s gingerbread hamster mansion disaster (“Frosting is not structural, turns out!”). Ariel’s elementary school play debacle (“My antlers fell off mid-scene. I almost ran off stage!”).
Their laughter faded into contentment as the movie ended, and the apartment grew quiet.
Eventually, Holly helped Ariel up, both of them drowsy and full. They switched off the TV, letting the tree lights glow, and made their way to bed.
In the dark, Holly curled close to Ariel, tucking her in. Ariel placed a sleepy kiss on Holly’s cheek.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Hol.”
“Merry Christmas Eve, Red. I love you.”
Ariel murmured, “Love you more,” and was asleep before Holly could protest.
The city outside was hushed, but inside their little home, everything was just as it should be—the start of every Christmas to come.

