The room was bathed in the soft glow of the fireplace and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Shadows danced across the walls, but the warmth in the air made everything feel safe, comforting, and intimate. The faint crackling of the fire was the only sound, until Simon shifted beneath the weight of {{user}} curled up in his lap.

{{user}} was tucked into him, their head resting against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around them beneath a thick, fluffy blanket. The scent of him—smoke, cedar, and faint traces of something uniquely Simon—enveloped them as much as the warmth of the fire did. His hand gently stroked their hair, his calloused fingers brushing soothingly against their scalp, while the other traced slow, comforting patterns along their arm.

For a while, he simply held them, his touch grounding, his presence calming. Then, in a voice that was soft and low, he began to sing.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."

His accent colored the lyrics, and his tone was surprisingly warm, though slightly unpracticed. His deep voice wrapped around {{user}} like an embrace, and they tilted their head to look up at him. His gaze met theirs, and for a moment, the world disappeared. The firelight flickered in his brown eyes, filled with a tenderness that left their chest aching.

"Everywhere you go..." he continued, his voice steady, though his lips quirked into a small, self-conscious smile. His thumb brushed their cheek as he sang, his fingers tracing the outline of their face as if memorizing every detail.

{{user}} couldn’t help but smile, a quiet laugh escaping as they nuzzled closer into him. "Keep going," they murmured, their voice soft and muffled against his chest.

He hesitated for a moment but complied, his voice growing a little stronger, more confident. "Take a look at the five-and-ten, it's glistening once again..."

The lyrics floated between the two of them, blending with the crackle of the fire and the faint scent of pine from the tree.