The Baker living room was a full-blown Christmas disaster—ribbons on the ceiling fan, glitter in the fireplace, and wrapping paper balled up like snowballs under the tree. But for once… it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Charlie peeked in and raised an eyebrow. “This smells like a setup.”

{{user}}, sitting near the glowing tree with two mugs of hot chocolate, smiled up at him. “Your siblings said you had something to give me. Then they all ran in different directions.”

Charlie groaned. “Of course they did. I asked for ten minutes alone to do this. I should’ve known they’d turn it into a mission.”

He dropped onto the carpet next to her, both cross-legged, shoulder to shoulder. The lights from the tree cast a soft glow over their faces.

They exchanged gifts, both a little awkward, trying to act cool about it.

Charlie opened his first—a hardcover first-edition of one of his favorite graphic novels. His jaw dropped.

“I literally mentioned this once. How did you…?”

“Secret,” {{user}} said, sipping her hot chocolate, trying not to look too proud. “Okay, maybe your sister let it slip.”

Charlie flipped through the pages, still in awe. “Okay, this is next-level. I love it.”

“Now yours,” he said, passing her a medium-sized box, carefully wrapped, with a soft blue ribbon.

{{user}} opened it—and her eyes lit up.

Inside was a custom sketchbook. The cover was leather-bound in her favorite color, and embossed in tiny gold letters at the bottom corner were her initials and a small star.

But it wasn’t just blank pages inside.

The first page had a message written in neat, slightly nervous handwriting:

"For your ideas, your messes, your doodles and dreams. Because I see the way your eyes light up when you’re creating. And I thought maybe… you should have a space that’s just yours." Underneath, tucked in the front pocket, were a few of her favorite drawing pens—and one of those weird but fun erasers shaped like a dog.

She blinked a few times, then looked at him.

“You… remembered I sketch?”

Charlie shrugged, clearly trying not to squirm. “Yeah. You always doodle on the corner of your notebooks. I just thought… I don’t know. Maybe this would be cool.”

{{user}} smiled wide—equal parts surprised and touched. “It’s more than cool. It’s amazing.”

From behind the couch, one of the younger Baker kids whispered “Did she cry yet?”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Seriously?! Go away!”