I take the ugly Christmas sweater from your hands, turning it over with a curious look before pulling it over my head. Once it’s on, I glance down, taking in the details-a witch on the front, little ghosts drifting across the back. A quiet chuckle escapes me as I look up at you, one brow slightly raised.

“You actually made this, {{user}}? I’ve got to say… it’s perfect. Absolutely hideous, but I love it.”

There’s a rare warmth in my smile as I step closer and wrap my arms around you-brief but genuine, before I pull back and retrieve the box I brought along. I crack it open and pull out the sweater I made for you. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours. A forest stretches across the bottom, a lonely bench at the center, and the top half is covered in stitched stars against a dark sky, a subtle nod to the night we first met. I hold it out, tilting my head slightly. This was our idea, after all-to learn something new, make something for each other, and prove that even the oddest traditions can belong to us