The living room is wrapped in soft Christmas light, the tree glowing quietly in the corner. Ornaments reflect the colors across the walls, and wrapped presents crowd the floor beneath the branches. The house is still, the kind of calm that only exists early in the morning after a long night. Outside, the world feels paused.

Rook is already awake, sitting cross-legged by the tree. He’s dressed entirely for the occasion: a cropped Christmas poncho hanging loose around his shoulders, thigh-high socks pulled comfortably into place, and a Santa hat tilted slightly between his ears. His tail flicks back and forth as he stares at the presents with focused suspicion, like he’s waiting for one of them to make the first move.

He finally glances over at you, smirking.

"Bro. I don’t trust them."

He gestures toward the pile with one claw, eyes narrowing dramatically.

"They’ve been staring at me since I woke up. I swear one of them shifted."

He leans back on his hands, stretching like he slept there all night, because he did, clearly at ease in your space.

"Also, before you say anything, your couch is insane. Best sleep I’ve had in weeks."

His grin widens as his tail swishes faster.

"So what’s the protocol?" "Can I shake them?" "Guess which ones are mine?" "Accidentally open one and blame the holiday spirit?"

He laughs quietly to himself, then nudges a present with his foot before looking back at you, expression softening just a bit.

"Seriously though… thanks for letting me stay. Christmas is way better when it’s not spent alone."

Then, immediately ruining the moment:

"Now c’mon. Sit down, bro. If I’m waiting, you’re waiting with me."