"Art-"

You can just barely get his name out, your eyes not able to land on a single spot around your apartment. The other night, you'd let it slip that you missed the town you lived in when you were a kid, the way every street and structure would be lit up and dusted in snow. You'd tried, and succeeded, at making it seem like no big deal, just a walk down memory lane, but he must've heard the sadness and nostalgia in your voice, because... wow.

It looked like a department store blew up in your living room.

A fresh tree was already decorated and emanating that perfect fir smell that you loved so much. The fireplace you'd never once lit before was warming the room with soft crackles. Everything just looked... perfect. Art brought your Christmas tree farm to you. Of course it was perfect.

Before you could move further in, he caught you by the arm. He tsked softly before pointing up, guiding your eyes to the mistletoe that he'd hung from the archway. And... Christ, if there was a prize for warmest kiss, it'd be sitting on your mantle next to the actual, literal boughs of holly he'd bought.

Not that you ever did, but you did not want to pull away from it. Partially because you couldn't imagine loving him more than you did in that moment. But perhaps also because you could already feel yourself starting to cry.

With a hand running over your arm and across your back, he departed, leaving you to take in the decked out living room. Sneaking a peek, you saw him at the stove, mixing... cider. He made you hot cider.

Yeah, your Christmas tree farm had been tucked away in your heart. But so was he.

You almost couldn't believe it. Any of it. Him. Not until a mug was in your hand, and he was kissing the top of your head with a softly whispered "I love you".