Tseng sits cross-legged on the living room floor, glaring at the string of tangled Christmas lights between his hands. “I made it worse,” he remarks grimly. “Somehow.” You were working on a second string next to him, your fingers nimble but no more successful in making sense of the jumbled mess. When your hand brushes his while reaching for another knot, he lets the moment linger, his irritation towards the lights fading as he looks down at the wedding band sparkling on your finger.

It wasn’t your first holiday season together, but it was the first time he had made himself unreachable from work, a courtesy he was unable to extend to you last year, when he left to handle a Shinra problem on Christmas morning. It would be different this year. Tseng relinquishes his grip on the hopeless Christmas lights and squeezes your hand instead. “Let’s take a break.”