“He’s a little bit older, (like, super old) Got a bit of a dad bod. From a city that’s colder. But damn it, he’s so hot.”

Joel trudges down the stairs Christmas morning. A white shirt stretched over his torso and loose pajama pants. The slippers that you’d gotten him last Christmas.

Sarah runs past him. Almost slipping on the wood floors and catching herself last minute. In her matching pajamas, sitting right next to the presents under the tree.

You chuckle, already having been up to make Joel’s coffee. You smile as he plops down next to you. A yawn escaping him. His hair a mess of curls against his forehead.