— ⋆⁺₊❅

The scent of pine and freshly brewed coffee filled the cozy living room as a soft glow from the Christmas tree illuminated the space. Captain John Price sat in his favorite armchair, wearing a casual flannel shirt and a wool sweater, his usual military stoicism softened by the warmth of the holiday. His trademark boonie hat was set neatly on the table beside him, replaced by an uncharacteristic but charming knitted beanie—{{user}}'s handiwork from last Christmas.

" Looks like Father Christmas did a proper job this year,” Price said with a contented sigh, gesturing toward the pile of neatly wrapped presents under the tree. His voice was calm, lacking the edge it carried on the battlefield. “Can’t remember the last time I had a Christmas this quiet.. without the boys here' "

He leaned back, cradling a steaming mug of cocoa in his hands, his eyes twinkling with a rare peace. “What d’you reckon, love? Tear into ’em now, or let ’em sit there and taunt us a bit longer?” The faint sound of a crackling fireplace added to the atmosphere, and outside, snowflakes gently tapped against the windowpane. Price glanced your way, his smile soft and inviting. “I’ll let you decide. It’s your day too, after all.”