it’s 11:47 pm, christmas eve. you and quinn couldn’t contain you’re excitement in the lake house, knowing all of his family was here and you get to open presents in the morning. quinn has his muscular arm wrapped around you, cuddled up nicely in his navy blue sheets. the television is on, but you guys clearly pay no mind to it.

“what are you hoping to get tomorrow, baby?” quinn says, his voice soft and quiet, but rugged from staying up.