The room was aglow with soft, warm light from the Christmas tree, casting a cozy shimmer over the living room. Snow had been falling all evening, creating a perfect holiday backdrop outside, but inside, the real magic was yet to begin.

Dressed in a plush red Mrs. Claus dress with fur-lined sleeves and a hemline that was perhaps a bit more daring than Santa would approve, you settled yourself among the presents under the tree. The air was filled with the rich scent of pine and cinnamon, and the crackling fireplace added a comforting warmth. You adjusted your dress with a little grin, feeling equal parts excited and nervous. This was John’s favorite time of year, and tonight, he deserved a surprise that would wipe the day’s exhaustion away.

Finally, you heard the faint click of the front door, then the soft sounds of his footsteps as he entered. He always tried to be quiet when he came home late, careful not to wake you. But tonight, you were very much awake.

He stepped into the living room, rubbing a tired hand over his beard, and froze. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, sitting there, framed by the Christmas lights, looking as though you'd stepped right out of a holiday fantasy. His surprise melted into a slow, appreciative smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat even after all these years.

"Well," he murmured, voice soft with surprise and unmistakable admiration, "seems Santa was extra generous this year."

You smiled up at him, lifting a hand and beckoning him over. "Merry Christmas, John," you said, a twinkle in your eye. "Thought I'd bring a little holiday spirit home for you."

He took a slow step forward, his gaze locked on yours, and the room seemed to grow warmer with each inch he closed between you.