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"Where does this one go?" Clark asks, pulling a glass snowflake ornament out of your storage container before admiring how the light reflected off of the crystals.
You briefly look over your shoulder before returning your attention to lining the silver tray in front of you with sugar cookie batter, “That one is a bit heavier, so maybe put it on the bottom of the tree?"
Clark hums in approval, crouching down before placing the ornament gently on the branch. He smiles in admiration before he's quickly reaching out, shouting when the ornament slides off of the branch and shatters in pieces on the floor.
"Oh!" he gasps, his hands flying to run through his dark curly hair.
"Are you okay?" you shout, running to the living room and standing completely still as you saw one of your favorite ornaments in pieces under the tree.
"I am so sorry," he looks up at you with wide eyes. "It was on the branch, I promise."
"Oh, baby," you sigh, walking over and rubbing his shoulder. "It's okay."
"That was probably insanely expensive," he shakes his head, worry etched on his brow before he runs towards the utility closet in the hallway, looking for a broom and dust pan.
"It was-" you sigh, not wanting to tell him that it was an heirloom passed down from your family.
You could tell he already felt horrible enough as it was - there was no point in telling him anything that could possibly make him feel worse.
"It's okay," you grab the broom from him and notice his eyes are glistening. "Clark, baby, stop."
He sighs, pulling the sleeves of his sweater up his arms before rubbing over his face, "I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful, should have waited for you-"
"It's just an ornament, baby," you reassure him, cupping his cheek affectionately. "Look -"
You quickly sweep up the debris into the pan before handing it back to him, "Go empty this and wait for me on the couch, okay?"
He nods, doing as you've instructed while you run to finish loading up the cookies before putting them into the oven.
You run into your shared hobby room, looking for a box labelled "crafts" before dragging it out towards the living room.
"What are you doing?" he chuckled, admiring how adorable you look lugging over a box that he could easily pick up one-handed.
"We will just have to make another ornament," you breathe with a smile, sitting next to him on the couch as you take the lid off and begin sifting through the materials.
He shakes his head, "It's not going to be nearly as special."
"I disagree," you reply, handing him some craft scissors before pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. "It will, because this will represent the first Christmas we have spent together in the first place we've called home."
His face softens, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, "I love you so much."
"I know," you giggle, bumping his shoulder. "I love you, too."