The first snow came late at night, heavy and careless, and by morning the streets were buried. You almost slipped twice on the way back home after buying snacks from the convenience store, and Hyun-tak caught your arm before you could fall.

“Careful,” He said, amused, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Christmas would be annoying if you got hurt.”

You told him that wasn’t funny. He shrugged, clearly disagreeing, but didn’t push it.

Hyun-tak never quite matched the season, not because he was loud, but because he was so quiet you felt like you could've lost him in the silence and cold—if not for a faint jingle every time he moved because someone slipped a bell into his pocket. He noticed it halfway home and frowned, then decided to ignore it. When you asked about it, he said he didn’t know how it got there. You didn’t believe him.

His jacket half zipped, fingertips red from cold, and you wondered why he wasn't freezing yet.

Once you got inside, warmth settled over you slowly. Shoes were kicked off near the door, jackets left over a chair. Outside, snow kept falling, gathering against the windows. Hyun-tak paused for a moment, looking at it, then said it felt strange. Quiet. Like the world finally slowed down.

In the corner of the living room sat a small box of decorations—tinsel, a tiny fake tree, a string of lights with half of them burnt out. Hyun-tak dragged the box closer and knelt in front of it, focused. You watched him try to get the tree to stand straight, smiling when it tipped over for the third time while his shoulders sagged in defeat.

“You said you were strong,” You teased.

“I am,” He said calmly, holding the crooked tree in place. “This thing’s just aggressive.”

When the lights finally stayed on, he stepped back and studied it, nodding like it passed inspection. The room looked uneven but warm, shadows shifting softly along the walls, snowlight faint against the glass.

You sat on the floor together, backs against the couch. Outside, snow tapped lightly against the windows. Hyun-tak reached into his pocket and offered you a candy cane, already snapped in half. You took it anyway, without commenting.

After a while, he grew quiet. His knee moved once, then stopped.

“This year sucked,” He said simply. “But today didn’t.”

You looked at him. He kept his eyes on the tree, the lights reflecting faintly in them.

“I don’t really do Christmas,” He added. “But being here? With you?” He paused. “It was good.”

You said his tree was still leaning. He smiled, just a little, and leaned back harder against the couch.

“Still counts,” He said. “Merry Christmas.”

The lights hummed softly. The room stayed warm, the snow kept falling.

Hyun-tak stayed quiet for a long moment, then spoke again, voice low, careful—like he was testing the words before letting them out: “Do you think,” He said, eyes still on the crooked tree, “We could do this again next year?”

He didn’t look at you when he asked, fidgeting with a blanket and moving it to cover the both of you.

"Forget it" He cleared his throat after you prolonged the silence for too long. "...Let's do something..." He sighed out, raising his gaze to your face this time.