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After years of working in retail to put herself through college, Annie had learned to hate Christmas songs. Blue Christmas sent a chill down her spine; All I Want for Christmas is You was like nails on a chalkboard, and every single time she even heard anyone mention Michael Bublé, her stomach churned.
Her friends started to call her a grinch, which always made her face twist, but she knew in her heart they were right. She didn’t really care for the holidays, not then. They were just flooded with stress from feral customers and late shifts and overtimes, and never enough money to quite make it all feel jolly.
It changed, though, after Armin came into her life.
Annie sat in their warm living room, a Hallmark Christmas movie playing on the TV, carefully untangling the lights for their tree. They always seemed to go neatly back into the box after every Christmas, but whenever they came out again, they were practically tied together. It wasn’t as frustrating as it should have been, although it couldn't exactly be called fun. Still, something was making it seem better than usual. Maybe it was the scent of warm cookies and cinnamon wafting from the kitchen, and the faint sound of Christmas tunes thumping through the door.
Her lips nearly twitched as she recognised the song. Feliz Navidad. Annie didn’t know Spanish, but Armin had listened to it so much over the years that she’d learned the lyrics. That was another one she’d hated for a long time, but Armin had changed that, too. It was one of his favourites.
The music seemed to jump in volume as the kitchen door thudded open.
“Annie?”
Annie turned her head to see Armin and her heart warmed. He was wearing an ugly Christmas jumper, red and green with plastic yellow stars sewn on, like an elf’s shirt. He’d bought it a few years ago, unironically, and it was so ugly Annie had nearly winced at the initial sight of it. Now, the sight of it made her heart squirm.
There was a splash of what looked like icing on his cheek, and it moved as he offered her a smile.
“Do you want to decorate the cookies?” he asked. “I can start the mulled wine.”
She hadn’t quite undone the lights, but she was much more eager to decorate the cookies he’d baked. Plus, once the mulled wine was ready, she imagined the whole light situation would be a lot less frustrating.
“Sure,” she said, rising to her feet.
He smiled as she moved towards him, but as she grew closer to the door, she realised he was making no move to shift aside.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “Wanna let me through?”
His smile was so warm, it nearly made her heart ache. “Wait.”
He reached behind himself and pulled something out of his pocket, before raising it above their heads.
Her eyes flicked up and she snorted.
Mistletoe.
It was fake, of course, and this wasn’t the first year he’d pulled this trick. She imagined he’d do it for many more. Not that she minded.
“Slick,” she said flatly.
He was still smiling. “It’s nice to see I’ve still got it.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes, but she leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his before he said anything else. His lips were warm and he tasted sweet, and she wondered for a moment if he’d snuck one of the cookies he’d baked.
When she pulled away, she poked him in the chest, and said, “You really don’t.”
He grinned. “Well, something’s clearly working for you.”
Annie couldn’t help but smile. “Well, definitely something.”
Armin leaned forward and stole another kiss, short and sweet, and her heart warmed.
She raised her eyebrows at him. “No mistletoe that time?”
He smiled again. It was so lovely it nearly made her heart ache. “That one was just for me.”
Armin finally stepped aside, letting her squeeze her way into their small kitchen, where the smell of cinnamon grew ever stronger. Two trays of cookies were laid out on the bench in different shapes: stars, bells, angels and trees, simple in colour, but enough already to make Annie’s mouth water.
“Your mouth is basically hanging open,” said Armin as he rested his hands on her shoulders.
She relaxed under his touch. “No, it’s not.”
He let out a huff. “They’ll probably be a little nicer with some icing.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Have you made any?”
She felt him move as he shook his head. “I thought I’d let you handle that. Then you can make it as sweet as you want.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I know.”
The music had changed again, and on came Jingle Bell Rock. She held back her snort as Armin released his grip and moved to grab the bottle of mulled wine off of the counter.
“I think these are my best ones yet,” said Armin as she reached to grab the box of icing sugar off of the bench.
“Oh, really?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“My favourites were your first ones,” she said.
Armin smiled, but he rolled his eyes. “You make that joke every year.”
On their first official Christmas together, when they moved into their first apartment, Armin had gotten the timings so wrong that the cookies burned to a crisp. He had been embarrassed, so much so that his face had turned red in a way she’d never seen before. She’d gone to the nearest Subway and picked them up some fresh cookies, and his embarrassment was soon forgotten.
Still, now that he managed to laugh it off, she couldn’t help but poke fun at him over it.
Her lips twitched. “And I’ll make it again next year.”
Armin let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, she watched as he twisted the cap off the mulled wine he’d picked up from the store, before pouring it into the pan on the stove.
The icing was extra sweet when she finished making it, and maybe just a little too sweet for Armin’s tastes, but she knew he wouldn’t complain. If anything, he seemed glad; she had a sweet tooth, and he liked it when she indulged in it. When it came to the holidays, she never deprived herself.
Although, she still managed to discreetly munch on one of the cookies when Armin was otherwise occupied. She preferred them sweeter, but she didn’t really want to wait when they were right there in front of her like that. They were perfectly warm and just soft enough, with such a gentle hint of cinnamon that she nearly sighed when the flavour touched her tongue. She managed to keep it to herself, though, while Armin was focused on the wine. He would tease her relentlessly if he caught her sneaking cookies like this.
It wasn’t long before the warmth of the mulled wine was tickling her nose, an array of delicious spices assaulting her senses, making her mouth almost water. Apart from all of the sweets, Armin’s tendency to brew mulled wine all the time was another one of her favourite things about the holidays.
“Are you done yet?” she asked.
Armin flashed her a smile. “Impatient much?”
She huffed and turned back to her cookies. “Patience is my best virtue.”
Armin laughed so genuinely that she couldn’t help but frown.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“It’s clearly something,” she said.
He smiled again. “You’re patient with some things. With food and drink? Absolutely not.”
Annie scoffed. “You’re lying.”
“Annie?” he asked. “Haven’t you already eaten one of the cookies?”
She looked at him blankly. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Nothing.”
She frowned. “You have sugar on your face, by the way.”
He frowned and raised his hand to his cheek – the wrong cheek. “Where?”
“Here,” she said, stepping forward and lifting her hand to his face.
But it was on the wrong side. Not that Armin knew that. Her lips twitched, but too late for Armin to notice, and then in an instant, she leaned forward and very quickly, but forcefully, licked the sugar off of his face.
“Annie!” he said, but he was betrayed by his laughter. “Did you just lick me?”
“You’ve never complained before,” she said with a shrug.
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, like that’s the same thing.”
“Basically,” she said, turning back to ice the cookies.
Armin was quiet, too quiet, and she knew in an instant that he was still thinking about what she'd done. She suspected there would be some retaliation, but she tried to keep her attention on the cookies in front of her.
She tensed when she felt his hands rest on her waist, but she quickly relaxed when she felt him press his lips to her neck.
“I don’t think it’s the same thing,” he said. “And I don’t think you do, either.”
Her lips twitched. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he said.
Then, in an instant, his fingers tightened on her waist and he pressed his tongue flat again her cheek and licked up in a forceful sweep.
“Armin!” she said, wriggling in his grip.
“What?” he said. “I thought you liked it.”
She huffed. “Okay. Fine. I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“Not like that.”
She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was smiling. “Thought so.”
She scoffed, and Armin quickly released his hold on her, giving her enough space to turn around and meet his smiling face. Even now, when he looked at her, everything felt right – the most peace she’d ever know was right there in his smile.
Not that she’d ever tell him that. It would go straight to his head.
“Want a glass of wine?” he asked gently. “I think it’s ready.”
She nodded. “Of course I do.”
He offered her another smile and then gently pressed his lips to her cheek.
“Will you dance with me?” he asked.
Her eyebrows rose. “Right now?”
“You can finish icing the cookies,” he offered. “I know that’ll mean a lot to you.”
She rolled her eyes and nudged him. “Fine. But you know I can’t dance.”
“You know I can’t, either,” he said.
That was true. When it came to dancing, the two of them were gifted with two left feet. But Armin still liked dancing, especially with her. Annie was a little shier about it, so she was glad for the wine.
“Fine,” she said before she nudged him. “But if you step on my toes, I will be mean about it.”
His smile widened. “Aren’t you always mean?”
She poked him in the chest. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“I know,” he said. “You might have to put me on your naughty list.”
Her cheeks flushed and Armin grinned.
She sighed. “You’re ridiculous.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “You like it.”
She did, and he knew it, but that didn’t mean she was about to admit it.
She nudged him again. “Can I have some mulled wine now, please?”
He smiled and stepped away. “Of course.”
It didn’t take all that long to finish icing the cookies, or maybe it just didn’t feel that long with the mulled wine. It also helped that Armin was by her side, humming along to another stupid Christmas song. It almost made her want to roll her eyes. Years ago, anyone doing that would have prompted such a reaction. With Armin, she found it endearing.
Her friends always used to say that Armin had made her soft, and she supposed they were right.
But she didn’t particularly mind being soft, anyway.
“I think we’ve done a good job,” said Armin.
The cookies were a mess. As much as Armin had perfected the recipe, their decoration skills were beyond abysmal. Yet, as she looked down at them, she could feel a smile threatening to bloom on her lips.
“They’re horrible,” she said.
Armin smiled. “Oh, they’re terrible. We could have done a better job with our eyes closed.”
She laughed and shook her head, and Armin laughed, too, so sweetly that it made her heart feel oh so warm.
Then, his hands were on her hips, gentle like they always were, and she smiled.
“Dance with me?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Here?”
He hummed and reached for her hand. “Why not?”
“It’s so … small in here,” she said.
“We’ll just be swaying, anyway,” he said.
She hesitated for a moment before she sighed. “Fine.”
He smiled. “Don’t sound so upset about it.”
“I’m not upset about it,” she said.
And she wasn’t. Armin’s hands were always soft, and his touch was gentle in a way she’d never known before him. She would have danced with him anywhere he’d asked her to – but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease him about it.
“Are you sure?” he asked gently.
She hummed. “I’m certain.”
Just then, as they began swaying in the kitchen, Annie noticed the song switch in the background. Frank Sinatra’s voice drifted through the air as he began to sing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
That one she used to hate, too. But it was also one of Armin’s favourites, and now when it came on, she watched as his face lit up like a Christmas tree.
Her lips twitched. “You’re so predictable.”
He let out a huff, but he was still smiling. “What does that mean?”
She paused for a moment before she said, “I think I just know you too well.”
“Too well?” he said teasingly.
“Yeah,” she said, fighting a smile. “Maybe we need some distance.”
He laughed. “Well, that’ll be hard, considering how small this apartment is.”
She smiled. Then, after a slight pause, she said, “Maybe I’d miss you too much, anyway.”
He smiled again. “I’d miss you, too.”
They stood swaying in the kitchen through the whole song. At one point, Armin pulled her closer and started humming along to the words, like he always did. Annie often enjoyed the sound of his soft voice more than the actual song.
When the song faded into silence, Annie didn’t want to pull away. They stayed swaying for a few moments more, but Underneath the Tree didn’t exactly scream swaying, so they eventually slowed to a stop.
Armin was the first one to move. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she sighed.
He smiled. “Want to finish the tree?”
She scoffed. “You mean you want to spend all night untangling the lights?”
His smile widened. “Basically.”
She hummed. “Yeah, okay. Just let me grab my …”
She trailed off as she turned around, reaching for her nearly empty cup of mulled wine on the bench. It was only a few seconds, but before she could even turn back, Armin’s soft voice cut through the quiet.
“Annie?”
She turned around and was met with his smiling face as he held that stupid piece of fake mistletoe between them.
She sighed, but a smile was tugging at her lips. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, stepping closer.
She scoffed, but she placed her cup back down on the bench and let her hands rest on his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’ve mentioned,” he said lightly, and then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
His mouth was warm and sweet, and he tasted like sugar and cinnamon. He kissed her so softly it nearly made her lips tingle, and when he pulled away, it was far too soon.
He smiled. “I’ll just put the lid on the wine, then.”
Armin placed the fake mistletoe down on the counter before turning to replace the lid of the pot to keep in some of the heat, although Annie imagined it would be cool again by the time they got back to it.
Her eyes drifted to the counter again, and her lips twitched. She reached out and grabbed the little piece of plastic he’d left.
“Armin?”
“Hmm?” he said, turning.
Annie was holding the mistletoe above her head, trying to keep her expression as innocent as possible, to little avail.
He smiled. “Who’s being ridiculous now?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”
Armin didn’t need to be told twice. He closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her with a gentleness that nearly made her heart burst.
The mistletoe fell to the floor, and the wine and cookies would soon go cold, but that was alright. Those things were nice and all, but, if she was being honest with herself – Armin was her favourite thing about the holiday season, anyway.