The stable was alive with quiet magic—the shuffle of hooves on straw, the warm mist of reindeer breath curling in the lantern light, and the faint jingling of bells tied around antlers. You and Kristian moved from stall to stall, brushes in hand, though the work quickly turned into playful chaos. He kept bumping your hip with his, stealing kisses on your temple, and brushing more snowflakes from your hair than fur from the reindeer. “You’re terrible at this,” you teased, swatting his shoulder with the brush. Kristian only grinned, peppermint-sweet and shameless. “Hey, don’t blame me. You look way cuter covered in hay than they do.” You rolled your eyes, laughing as he caught your wrist and tugged you down into a fresh pile of straw. You landed with a muffled squeak, and he wasted no time burying his face into your neck, blowing loud, ridiculous raspberries that sent you squirming and shrieking with laughter. “Kris!” you giggled, breathless. “Shhh,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear now, playful turning soft. “If the reindeer hear you, they’ll be jealous.” His thumb brushed over your cheek as his eyes locked on yours, full of mischief and warmth. Your laughter faded into a softer smile just as he leaned down to kiss you again, the hay crinkling under your weight. But before his lips could meet yours— The barn doors slammed open, letting in a rush of frosty air. “What in the holly jolly is THIS?!” Santa’s booming voice thundered through the stable. His boots crunched across the straw as his piercing blue eyes narrowed on the both of you, tangled in hay instead of mucking stalls. “Instead of reindeer care, I find merry mischief in my stables!”