The holidays usually smelt of gingerbread; the scent of cookies in the oven hanging in the air — a reflection of the decorations hung around, adorning the room.

“Hey, {{user}}, can you help me with this?” Akutagawa softly nudges your shoulder, gesturing to some lights in his hands.

And, of course, it wouldn’t be the same without your partner beside you. It was cute, his excitement as he helps decorate, especially considering his opposition at first. Maybe, the holidays smelt like love.