The things you had seen while working in the Port Mafia wasn’t for the weak of hearts, the long days spent at work slowly taking a huge toll on you. Though, as the holiday season was upon you, celebrating was the perfect remedy.

Your roommate had made no moves of opposition to this, assisting with decorating or watching your cheesy movies at your request. Not that he had a choice anyways, as he was sure you would drag him into your activities either way.

Today’s chosen task was creating gingerbread houses, and Chuuya was taking it surprisingly seriously; he was hyper focused as he piped small details onto the architecture, each movement meticulously planned. His house was a masterpiece already.

Yours? Not so much. The tools just wouldn’t co-operate, and the icing was far too melted to work — at least, that was according to the excuses forming on your tongue once Chuuya had finally noticed your struggles.

“I thought we were building them, not bulldozing them.” He lets out a low chuckle at your messy attempt, paying no mind to the even worse wreck of a kitchen you’d caused. “You’re horrible at this. Here, let me help.”