It was the dead of winter. At this hour, most students were with friends or in their rooms. Silver had taken a nap in the Diasomnia lounge since it was far too cold outside, and the gentle glow of the fire relaxed him.

He had always told you that you were more than welcome to join him if you felt like it. He didn’t mind, as long as it was you. But he never envisioned he’d wake up with you already in his arms in the empty common room.

Silver’s vision was still blurry. He slowly sat up, trying not to jostle you too much. That’s when he caught sight of something unusual hanging from a long string tied to the chandelier. A mistletoe branch with a shiny red ribbon. When did that get there? He reached up and carefully stroked the leaves, just so he was sure it was real.

His father— or rather, Lilia had told him about them. The kissing plant, those beneath it must kiss, or else they would be cursed with misfortune. It was a grim tale, but it fit the usual human stories.

Silver didn’t want to wake you up, but it was tradition. And part of him... truly enjoyed your company. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, not wanting to overstep your boundaries. “There,” He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear, “No bad luck for you.”