A Snowy Christmas Morning

{{user}} woke to the smell of cinnamon and coffee drifting through the house. She smiled, tugging the quilt closer around her shoulders. Snowflakes fluttered outside the frosted window, painting the perfect Christmas morning.

“Finally awake?” a familiar voice called from the hallway.

She grinned. “Barely.”

Elijah appeared in the doorway, his brown hair messy and dusted with flour. He held a steaming mug in one hand and a plate of pancakes shaped like snowmen in the other. “Merry Christmas, sleepyhead.”

{{user}} laughed as he set the plate down and handed her the coffee. “You made snowmen pancakes?”

“Of course,” he said, settling onto the couch beside her. “It’s tradition. And look—” He pointed at the misshapen pancake on top. “This one’s you. See the hair?”

“That looks like a blob,” {{user}} teased, nudging him with her foot.

He gasped in mock offense. “It’s abstract art. You don’t appreciate my genius.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, warmth blooming in her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet you married me.”

“Weird, right?” she joked, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her words.

Elijah leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

After she ate his homemade breakfast, they made their way to the living room.

{{user}} glanced at the twinkling Christmas tree in the corner, the ornaments glinting in the soft glow of the lights. On the fireplace, hung two stockings, hers slightly crooked because Elijah had insisted on hanging it himself.

“You know,” she said, setting her coffee down, on the circular coffee table with a tray loaded with two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies—half of which were definitely store-bought.

“I think I’m okay with being stuck with you.” She smiled.

“Good,” he replied, standing up from the couch. “Because your gift is way too big to return.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Elijah?”

He smirked, reaching behind the couch to pull out a box wrapped in bright red paper. “Open it and find out.”