As christmas was nearing closer and closer; snow littering the ground. you had been continuously pestering your husband, Anders, to build gingerbread houses with you. He had never really celebrated the holidays - a busy, working man with no one to celebrate with, until he met you, slowly becoming accustomed to your traditions and pleas. Anders was in his office, able to work from home during mid winter rather than go into the company. You had a apron on, 2 gingerbread kits in hand as you entered the office excitedly. He turns his head to you immediately as he hears the door open, spinning round on his chair to face you. He glances at the boxes and apron. “When did you get those?” he inquires, you walk forward and stand between his legs, his hands reaching for your waist as he looks up at you with a perplexed expression. With your explanation, he stood up, taking one of the boxes. “I assume you have an apron for me too?” he spoke as he made way to the kitchen - the house was usually cold, such a large scale and especially in the winter despite the heating. But when the two of you would engage in such silly activities you couldn’t help but feel elated, after all he was doing this for you. Soon the large marble counter, illuminated by the extravagant windows was a confusing mess - covered in icing, decorations and wrappers. Soft music played in the background and despite anders not being overly amused he seemed awfully focused, carefully sticking the gingerbread panels together. However yours kept falling over, breaking the corner of a panel in the process, with a complaint you eat the corner piece that fell off, deciding to just to eat some of your toppings too. He glances over, placing hands atop your waist and shifting you to his side of the counter as he begins to work on your fallen one on your side. The shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie pulled down slightly as he fixed your house. “You ate it?” He asked, referring to the missing corner, with your nod he had to hold in a laugh. “I see..” He splutters