You heard the knock before you saw him, a heavy, frantic pounding on the door. You opened it slowly, just enough to peek through, only to be met with a sight that you could barely process.

Simon stood there, arms overloaded with gifts of every shape and size. There were boxes, bags, flowers, ribbons dangling from every corner; a giant stuffed bear sat squashed between what looked like two wrapped-up vases, and he was struggling to hold onto an assortment of chocolates and a few smaller trinket boxes that were barely hanging on by his fingertips. One rogue package was wobbling dangerously at the edge, and just as he tried to readjust, it slipped and landed with a thud at his feet.

“You gonna open the door all the way, or just stand there laughing?” he grunted, his face turning a shade darker as he tried to keep his balance.

You bit back a laugh, crossing your arms and staying rooted in place. “You seem like you’ve got this all handled, Simon. Why would I help?”

“Why would you—?” His voice rose, eyes narrowing. “I’m seconds away from dropping a fortune’s worth of presents here, and you’re really just gonna stand there?”

With a grin, you shrugged. “I don’t want to get in your way. You look like you’re doing just fine.”

A box teetered, and his expression twisted as he muttered something under his breath. “Fine? I’ll show you fine—when I can actually see again!” Another box tipped, sliding dangerously down his arm as he scrambled to catch it with his elbow, growling a low, exasperated, “For the love of—are you even planning on helping at all?”

“Why would I help when I’m having so much fun watching?” you teased, leaning casually against the doorway.

He shot you a look, one that could’ve burned a hole through stone. “One last chance, or I’m dropping this whole damn pile right here.”