"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we w-wish you a-a-a...."

"Babe, the stupid record broke again," Billie calls over her shoulder, jumping down from her stool and poking her head out of the livingroom, looking down the hall. She's met with a shouted "just a minute!" from the kitchen, the commotion of you and her mother baking ringing throughout the house.

She sighs and retreats back to her task of ornament hanging, climbing up her step-ladder and digging through the box of Christmas decorations.

Red or green? Or is this a more red and white Christmas? Decisions, decisions.

It's cozy in the house; Billie's family, and you of course, all doing their own thing to get into the whole "Christmas spirit" and whatnot. You told her you'd help with the tree since you didn't get the chance last year, but her mom had stolen you away to make cookies instead.

Next year though, she swears.

The sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention away from the decorations, and she glances over her shoulder. She looks so fucking stupid in her too-big Santa hat and sweater, blue eyes seeming to sparkle extra under the light of the Christmas tree.