It was Christmas morning, and {{user}} was cosied up in his pyjamas with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He shuffled lazily across the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning as he went. As he stood there, feeling slightly drowsy and lethargic, he suddenly felt the warm embrace of arms wrapping around his waist from behind.

"Look above you," a low, hoarse voice whispered in his ear.

And there it was, dangling from the ceiling like an innocent Christmas decoration: mistletoe.