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Ten minutes into watching her shift through sheets of instructions, Vincent began with a drawl. “You do know,” He said, quirking his lips in fond patience and exasperation, “That the delivery can build it for us.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “It wouldn’t have been the same,” She replied without looking away, wearing the same emotions his little smile carried, easy as breathing.
She gathered a breath to blow the wayward locks of hair in front of her face out of the way- their more cooperative siblings had been twisted into a neat little bun at the nape of her neck, slightly overlooking one shoulder. It sweetened the faint tension across her shoulders and warmed Vincent through.
“Eugene is perfectly handy with furniture.” He continued, undeterred. “You may recall his timely rescue of this very room.”
That tickled a laugh out of her. Of course she remembered: they had returned home from a dinner date one day to what could only be described as a mountain of pine needles in their living room. The whole mansion reeked of it.
Emerging from beneath one fluffy branch, the valet had calmly reassured them that everything was, in fact, in good order, and that "adequate help" had been called upon to rectify the "unfortunate misunderstanding". Sophia only had enough time to hear something suspiciously chainsaw-like deeper in the room before Vincent pirouetted her around, back to the limousine. Some kind of magic she wasn’t privy to happened that night; when they came home the following morning, only a logically-sized tree stood, sparsely but tastefully decorated, ready for any personal touches they would like to add.
They never really talked about that incident again, but Sophia resolved to find Eugene an extra special gift this year nonetheless.
“I know, I know. But it’s for Theodora! I want to do it myself.”
Hearing her name, the dog in question perked up where she was dragging Esteban and his pillow around. Two pointy ears wiggled to attention while her tail thumped incessantly on the hardwood floor.
Vincent clicked his tongue. “Theodora, don’t-“ He rose to his feet just as the samoyed renewed her quest across the room. “Theo, stop. You’ve dragged him all over the house twice over.”
Giggling to herself, Sophia went back to studying the instructions. There were deceptively more parts involved than the minimalistic design implied, and the instructions were quite vague. She circled several steps where the instructions felt counterintuitive to mull over later. Distracted, she didn't hear him draw close until warm fingers grazed her cheekbone, then her ear. Sophia glanced up to find Vincent, his rescued princeling in one hand, the other, extended towards her. She took it without question or hesitation, letting him pull her to her feet.
Disposing Esteban safely on the couch, Vincent finished tucking the stubborn hairs at her temples behind her ears. She leaned into it reflexively; the back of his fingers lingered to rest lightly against her jaws as if in agreement.
“You don’t need to overthink something like this.”
“I don’t overthink.” Sophia traced over the path of his touch absently. At his raised-brows look, she amended. “I’m not overthinking this . I’m just reading instructions.”
“With pens.”
“It’s vague.”
Almost imperceptibly, Vincent swayed closer when Theodora tried to weave between them underfoot. Sophia nudged her dog out of the way and stepped into his waiting closeness. Any other would miss the subtle curve of his spine, how he folded just that tiny bit over her, closer. Approval rolled off him in a coveted look.
“Ms. Saxton can help if you give her a call. Granted we set down ground rules, of course.”
Sophia balked. “Vincent, I can still find random snowflake glitter everywhere ."
His face grew pinched as if he's holding in a deep sigh. "I know."
Dinner last year was… quite the feat. Afterward, Millie had reassured them that everything was biodegradable and would, quote, unquote, "sort themselves out in time". Which, unfortunately, while a small consolation, did not provide any relief from their persistent, sparkly predicament.
"Well, I think we should give the staff a break,” Sophia said. At the look on his face, she narrowed her eyes. “How many plans did you make?”
“I said I would entertain some of her more sensible suggestions,” Vincent admitted. “You know her pitches. She’s working through Christmas though, chasing some leads for an enigmatic case in Belgium.”
It crossed Sophia’s mind to ask about TJ or Hugo, but then she thought better of it. Too much baggage for the season. Instead, she rested her forehead against Vincent’s shoulder with a nod, basking in the lazy atmosphere. His cashmere sweater was soft on her cheek, and despite a fleeting pause, his hands fell to her arms in a steadying embrace.
“I would…” She pursed her lips. “I would like it if you help with the house? Not because I can’t, alone, just…”
Vincent’s hum traveled through her wherever they touched. “Of course,” He said. “As long as we finish before dinner. Otherwise, we let others handle it.”
“Afraid of tedium, as always.”
The silent, almost knee-jerk squeeze around her arms said, As if . The light scoff trickling through her hair reinforced it. Over his shoulder, Sophia saw Theodora walked a circle around a sleeping Esteban, then flopped on top of him, completely engulfing him in fluff.
“Decorating is still wholly yours to oversee, I promise.” Sensing her distraction, he followed her line of sight and exhaled a short resigned sigh.
“We better get to it, I suppose. Before Esteban suffocates.”
“Don’t worry.” Sophia picked at invisible lint on his shoulder. “We love you too much for that.”
Without letting him process the words completely, she stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. Her lips left a half-smile at the corner of his mouth, and he ran his thumb over her ring finger once in response.
They finished a little later than their usual dinner time and put on the finishing touched while picking at the food Eugene wheeled in on a cart. Sometime during it all, Esteban migrated to his dad’s lap and spent the rest of the night luxuriating in head scritches, while Theodora nestled herself under Sophia’s elbow, getting in the way of her readjusting strings and fluffing mattresses.
Around ten, Sophia stood back to observe their handiwork. Her head tilted slightly to the side in contemplation.
“Is it a bit… I don’t know." She picked at the fairy lights idly. "Is it a bit too much?”
Vincent came up to her back and looped an arm around her waist. He produced the little bell the dogs had been holding hostage with a flourish, eliciting a little laugh. While she busied herself with its placement, he filled them each a globe of wine and passed Sophia her glass once she returned to him.
“Not at all,” He said, “Theodora certainly seems to adore the change in scenery.”
The samoyed barked once in confirmation, then primly pranced her way into her new house. Esteban greeted her curiously at the door when she finally settled, sniffling around the new bed and its wooden frame before stepping all over his friend to get in. He curled up in the nook of Theodora's tummy and poked his head over her side.
Sophia couldn't help her grin.
"I looked up a few similar houses for Esteban too, of course," She said, tracing the rim of her glass. "What do you think?"
Vincent made a vague, thoughtful noise. He reached up like he wanted to smooth her hair out of the way again, but instead simply gave the unruly lock a gentle, affectionate tug. A lost little smile flirted with the corner of his mouth but there was no confusion at all when he gazed down at her.
"I think." He returned the peck she left earlier. "It's a marvelous idea."