Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.

So much joy and money spent on holiday decorations, Christmas tree toys, outfits and food. John definitely felt like you were going to ruin him this Christmas, but what wouldn't you do for the girl you love, right?

The preparations for the holiday were quite exhausting. You couldn't blame a man for being tired and just wanting to distract himself with something more... enjoyable than all that fuss (well, except that the word "distract" didn't mean watching a football match with a beer at all).

It was about six o'clock in the evening when you returned home from the store, because you had to buy more paper napkins with Christmas ornaments for the table. So, the package was successfully sent to the locker along with the rest of the purchases, and you finally entered the living room, noticing John sitting in an armchair not in the most ... casual outfit. Seeing your man in a Santa costume against the background of a Christmas tree and paraphernalia was definitely not part of your plans.

"Come on, sweetheart…" Price patted his knees, obviously inviting him to sit down. "If you're looking forward to the holiday so much, then why don't you make a wish on Santa's lap?"