It began with convenience.

Down the block of your apartment complex, nestled cozily in a corner was a café. Only a short stroll away, it was logically the best option.

The small bell above the door jingled as you stepped inside. The warm air of the café immediately overtook your autumn chill. The smell of coffee and warm pastries hit first, but it was the barista that really caught your eye.

Your gaze drifted from his features down to his silver name tag. Elias Moreau.

Naturally, you became a usual.

You weren’t certain if it was for the coffee or the one making it.

—

He noticed too.

Elias remembered your favorite drink, the way your hand lingered on the counter when you laughed, everything bit by bit. You didn’t realize it at the time, but he was storing all these details, little notes in his mind, waiting for a moment to bring them together.

Conversations started as casual small talk, eventually developing into something more. Slowly, day by day, a quiet closeness formed. You became each other’s favorite part of the day, though neither of you had said it aloud. There was no pressure to define it, no awkward declarations—just a mutual understanding that this was comfortable, natural, and important.

Weeks later, it led to a quiet agreement: spend the holidays together. No big reason, no expectations, just a simple truth that felt undeniable.

—

The apartment was warm, lit by soft yellow lights and the glow of the tree in the corner. Wrapping paper sat forgotten on the floor. Something sweet baked earlier lingered in the air, mixed with the faint scent of pine.

Elias raised his arm, levitating the mistletoe above the both of you.

The slightest shift in the air was palpable.

One second, he was laughing—really laughing—at your jokes, good or bad. The next, the space between you felt different. Smaller. Charged with something neither of you had named yet.

Elias didn’t look away.

Didn’t fidget. Didn’t fill the silence.

Just held your gaze, steady and intent, like he’d already made his choice and was giving you time to make yours.

That was always how Elias was. Direct. Honest. Unafraid of the truth once he found it.

“Merry Christmas, {{user}},” Elias said softly.

The mistletoe swayed slightly above you.