The fire crackled softly as you adjusted the Santa hat on your head, the plush trim brushing your cheek as you leaned against the armrest. The room was warm, but not as warm as the mischievous grin tugging at your lips. Keegan stood in the doorway, snow clinging to his boots and the broad line of his shoulders. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a snow globe, his arms full of hastily wrapped presents.

“You’re late,” you teased, twirling a candy cane between your fingers. Your tone was light, but your eyes sparkled with playful intent. “I was starting to think Santa forgot me this year.”

Keegan set the bags down with a thud, brushing snow from his gloves as he arched a brow. “Santa does not forget,” he rumbled, his voice carrying that soft growl that always made your stomach flip. “But he might be... distracted.” He paused as his gaze drifted, taking in the way your red sweater clung just right.

He took a step closer, towering over you as he leaned down just enough to let you catch the teasing glint in his eyes. “By someone who knows how to make trouble,” he murmured. His gloved hand reached for the candy cane, plucking it from your grasp. “Are you on the naughty list this year, {{user}}?”