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Azriel wrestled with the organised containers Elain stored all the Christmas decorations in, trying to avoid the cobwebs in the garage. He’d already pulled out nine large, labelled containers, but she had insisted he bring all twelve of them up to the house so she could settle on the colour scheme for this year.
Yanking out yet another box, dust fell from the top of it, settling in his hair and onto his eyelashes, causing him to shake his head like a dog, holding back the impulse to sneeze.
“Dad, mama said not to forget the box with the lights in it!” His six-year-old son was beyond excited, helping him lug boxes up to the house as Azriel pulled them all out of their various hiding places.
Pulling the final two out of the high shelving units, he handed the lightest of them to Benedict and grabbed the other three, running a hand through his dusty hair once more, the feeling of something crawling down his neck now making the hairs at his nape stand on end.
“Yep, got ‘em all kiddo. Let’s go.”
Entering the house through the back sliding door, Elain and Rue looked up from the cookies they were decorating, his daughter sitting on the wide kitchen island, her legs tucked beneath her as she helped her mum pipe icing onto the star and tree shaped biscuits.
Her hazel eyes snapped up as she heard her father walk into the house, a squeal peeling from her little chest as she all but leaped onto his back as he passed by the kitchen holding the last of the Christmas boxes.
Elain just laughed, used to Rue’s spirited nature, not even blinking when her daughter threw herself off the bench, trusting Azriel would catch her every time.
“I LOVE Christmas daddy!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Rue had latched herself onto her father’s back, her strong little arms wrapped securely around his neck. Her sticky fingers smeared green icing onto the skin below his jaw as she dangled down his back like a baby koala clutching onto its mother.
Chuckling at his mischievous daughter, Azriel crouched, dropping the boxes he still held whilst allowing Rue’s socked feet to touch the floor, the four-year-old bounding off to open boxes as soon as he’d let her down.
Elain was just placing the final touches on a star shaped cookie when she strolled over to Azriel, the shortbread treat held between her slender fingers.
“All twelve containers?” she asked, a content smile lighting up her face as she brought the cookie up to her husband’s lips.
“All twelve containers,” he confirmed, before craning his neck and taking almost the entire biscuit into his mouth. He chewed, moaning at the taste as his eyes bore into his wife’s, his hazel irises dilating as she looked back up at him, her teeth sinking deliciously into her full bottom lip.
Elain licked the remaining frosting off her own fingers, the heat from his gaze reflected back in her own eyes. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss, tasting the sugar from the treats she’s baked on each other.
Behind them, they could hear boxes being ripped open as their children excitedly pulled out all manner of ornaments and decorations, when Rue gasped.
Breaking their kiss, Azriel and Elain swivelled toward the sound of their daughter’s soft exclamation. Held in her little hands was a large mass of red, velvet cloth with white faux fur lining the cuffs and waist band.
“Daddy!” Rue squealed. “Why are Santa’s pants here?”
His daughter had found the Santa costume the family used on Christmas Eve when they all got together. Cassian was usually tasked with sneaking off after dinner to dress up and come in with a sack full of presents.
Rue looked scandalised; her hazel eyes blown wide with astonishment. Even Benedict looked on quietly, his warm brown eyes flicking questioningly from his mother, then his father, then back to the bright red pants.
Azriel scrambled, wracking his brain for an excuse. The last thing he ever wanted to do was ruin his children’s innocent sense of magic. Benedict and Rue deserved a sweet, wonderful life. So did Elain. Heaven knows he had never been granted the same luxury, and he always made a conscious effort to do everything in his power to be the father his own had never been for him. His entire life revolved around Elain and their children’s happiness. Besides, he loved that they both believed in Santa, and he wasn’t ready for their little dreams to be crushed.
“Umm, well Rue,” Azriel stammered, running a nervous hand through his hair as he bought himself time to make up an excuse. “We have Santa’s pants because… mama does his dry cleaning.”
He took a stab in the dark, holding his breath for their reaction.
Luckily, his kids took the bait, their faces transforming from looks of concern and confusion to impressed admiration.
“Really? Wow,” Rue breathed, her eyes going wide with wonder.
Benedict looked at his mother with the same reverence as Rue did, his gentle constitution leaving him in awe of Elain at the slightest thing.
“Cool!”
Elain just chuckled, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she shot a look at Azriel to say Santa’s dry cleaning?! That’s the best you could come up with?
Azriel just shrugged, relieved he had managed to say something to save their innocence for a little while longer.
Elain, squeezing Azriel’s bicep in understanding, added, “Oh absolutely, Santa has been trusting me with his laundry for years!”
She made sure the serious look on her face left no room for further questioning from her children’s curious minds.
“Wow…” Rue repeated, now looking at the pants in her hands with wide eyes, holding them up as far as her little arms could stretch them. “Santa’s pants…”
“I can’t wait to tell Nyx!” Benedict breathed, his brown eyes alight with wonder.
Stifling a chuckle behind her hand, Elain turned back to the kitchen to finish off decorating the cookies. Azriel shot her a self-satisfied smirk, his raven hair falling into his eyes before he turned to the box of Christmas lights to get started on the decorations.