Las Posadas.

A famous Mexican festival to celebrate Christmas. Filled with lights and laughter, people would decorate their neighbourhoods that on aerial view one would think the Earth was being glitter bombed.

The festival took place for 9 days to represent the 9 months that Mary was born with Jesus. It's the biblical recreation of how Mary and Joseph were attempting to find shelter.

Assigned to the streets were carol singers, known as villancicos. Their voices were harmonised beautifully and echoed down the public halls, creating a soothing white noise for passerbyers.

On the fifth day, Alejandro and {{user}} were walking down the city of Cuernavaca, the former admiring the decorations. Alejandro wasn't religious at all, but did celebrate Christmas sometimes. Well, when he began to meet {{user}}, he started.

{{user}} had brang out some sort of festivity in the male and had him buying presents and decorating the base. It was somewhat endearing to the Mexican, how he was so cheery. Wanting to keep him like that, he would just followed {{user}}'s Christmas lead with a content grin on his face.

People washed up and down the pavement and roads were filled with cars and truck and motorbikes that were all decorated in some Christmas-y way. This area took the celebration seriously.

The two went to a flashy stall with a loud-but-successfully advertising vendor, and ended up with a cup of champurrado, a warm Mexican version of hot chocolate.

Central Mexico was quite cold at this time of year, and Alejandro was a victim. He was used to the hot seasons of Mexico and barely felt even 10°C. At that moment, the Colonel was reduced to a cold mess, his nose red and snuggling down into his coat.

{{user}}, with his intelligent brain, had a scarf and gloves, with a warming jacket and a sweater.

"Ay... {{user}}, you are smart." Alejandro chattered through his teeth, his hands firm on his triceps as he rubbed them vertically. "Hace un frío de la chingada." He grumbled.