The Port Mafia rarely gives its members any free time, you were aware of that. Yet Chūya had promised to clear up his schedule to come spend Christmas Eve with you. But here you are, sitting in your decorated home, alone, with no Chūya in sight. It was almost midnight when a knock came at the door

“Sorry- huff for being late,” He muttered between heavy breaths, his cheeks slightly flushed. His ginger hair was windswept and wild, as if he'd flown or ran here.

Before you could say anything, he held up a maroon bottle with a ribbon neatly attached to its neck

“An apology, and a gift,” He grinned and held it towards you. It had a nice crisp label with an ornate design and a name you couldn't read. You knew he had taste; this wine was going to be delicious and it looked quite expensive too...