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The air smelled of oranges and cinnamon. Even though it had become frosty after dark, the warmth emanating from the hot food stalls warmed everyone nearby. Lights twinkled everywhere; the streets were literally buried with them. Christmas fair at its finest.
'Last Christmas I gave you my heart...' you sang quietly, accompanying the song playing from the speakers.
'Excuse me?' Kirsh asked, looking at you intently. He was wearing a blue puffer jacket (for appearances' sake, because he couldn't possibly be truly cold), and from under the open snaps peeked a Christmas sweater with reindeer motifs — a gift from you. You thought he looked incredibly hot in that outfit, but you didn't want to tell him that just yet.
You just smiled broadly at him, shrugging. 'I'm singing to myself.'
He frowned, but replied as if he understood perfectly, "Oh, right." Then he cast a dubious glance at the fair; the colourful stalls and the people milling about, laughing and shouting. 'Could you remind me why we're here?'
'It's Christmas! I wanted you to see for yourself how humans celebrate it, and where is a better place for that than the Christmas fair?'
'Hmm.' He raised his brows while looking around. 'And this is supposed to be so wonderful that you all wait all year for it?'
His little teases couldn't dampen your spirits. 'Can you try having fun for once? It doesn't hurt,' you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder.
Staying deadly serious, he replied. 'I don't like having fun.'
'I never would have thought so, judging by what we did last night,' you muttered sarcastically.
Kirsh smiled wryly. 'That's different.'
'I think the term "fun" fits this activity too.' You winked at him. 'You just need to pull that stick out of your ass and you'll be fine.'
His white eyebrows rose surprisingly high. 'Beg you pardon?'
You weren't sure if he didn't understand the metaphor or was really surprised by its use, so you grabbed his hand and quickly added. 'Come on, let's try some mulled wine.'
***
A sweet, thick mist settled on your clothes and hair as you leaned over the cauldron with the steaming liquor. Just the fumes were enough to get drunk.
'Two, please!' you called to the saleswoman with a grin on your face.
'This won't work on me,' Kirsh muttered as you pressed a paper cup containing the intoxicatingly fragrant content into his hand.
'But it definitely will work on me. I won't mind your whinings then.'
'I'm not whining...' he sighed and took a sip of mulled wine.
'Come on in and decorate gingerbread cookies!' A smiling boy with a cocked Santa hat accosted you while you drank. 'That stall over there,' he pointed at a large stall next to which stood a tent full of tables and heaters. A lot of people were crowded there. 'The first gingerbread is free; you have to pay for the next ones.'
'Let's go!' You didn't even ask Kirsh for his opinion; you just dragged him along. 'Decorating gingerbreads is a perfect Christmas activity.'
'If you say so.'
The stand smelled strongly of spices. Kirsh was quite sceptical at first; his first gingerbread was simply a frosted circle, while yours was a highly detailed Christmas tree. But you started giving him other shapes, and he quickly became hooked. His cookies were, of course, perfect, like everything he made — the perfect amount of frosting and decorations, the beautifully crafted faces of the little people, and the ideal star shapes.
'You're doing quite well, sir. Are you an artist?' asked the man sitting next to him, accompanied by two preschool-aged children. They made more mess than a group of monkeys, but at least they weren't making noise.
'Yes,' Kirsh said without a blink, highly focused on decorating a gingerbread heart.
The man inquired. 'I might know your name?'
'I don't think so.' Kirsh said with a little sigh. 'The art I create isn't appreciated in this country.'
His interlocutor frowned. 'And what kind of art is that?'
'Science.'
You listened to this strange exchange with a smile, sipping your mulled wine. You could get used to it; spending time alone with Kirsh had its perks; his calm and collected nature always soothed you, but in the holiday rush, they seemed even more precious.
'This is for you.' Kirsh handed you the finished gingerbread, a perfect heart decorated with stars around the edges.
'Thank you, but it's so beautiful I think I won't eat it.'
'I suggest you hang it on the Christmas tree. I didn't make it with the intention of it ending up in your stomach and then being...'
'Don't spoil the holiday spirit,' you laughed, interrupting him. 'I won't eat it, I promise. Now finish your mulled wine, because we're going to the carousel!'
***
'(Y/N), you know I'll do anything you ask, but this is probably going too far,' Kirsh said, looking at the two-story carousel.
You frowned. 'When do you ever do what I ask?'
'Right now. I let myself be dragged to this ridiculous fair.' He glanced at the several-meter-long queue to the carousel. 'We'll be waiting for at least twenty minutes, you'll freeze.'
You smiled slyly. "Then let's see if you really do everything I say; bring me another mulled wine, please."
Kirsh was never one for subtlety, but you couldn't say he expressed his emotions either, as he claimed he had none. Despite that, the look he gave you at that moment was incredibly emotional. He didn't say anything, though, just turned on his heel and headed for the alcohol stand.
When he was gone, you wondered if you had overdone it and expected too much from him, but you quickly put your doubts aside when you saw him carrying two steaming mugs.
'You want to make sure the alcohol isn't affecting you at all?' you mocked him.
'No. Both are for you.'
'If I drink two more mugs, you'll have to carry me back home.'
'Of course, that would be a pleasure.' He smiled crookedly, almost knocking you off your feet, but despite your admiration for his beauty, you remained firm.
'No, Kirsh, one for you and one for me.'
The line barely moved for another twenty minutes, because after the last ride, the operator had to go to the restroom and still hadn't returned. You had already finished your mulled wine and started to freeze.
'Let's go home before you catch a cold, (Y/N),' insisted Kirsh.
'We've been waiting this long... And we haven't seen the Christmas tree yet and...'
'Stop! I've got an idea: if I show initiative and express one of the Christmas traditions, maybe you'll decide that's enough and finally want to go home?'
You considered it for a moment. 'Depends on which tradition you're talking about...'
Without a word, he took the empty cup from you and tossed it into the trash along with his own, which was also empty. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green sprig, holding it above your heads. 'The crucial one, I think.'
'Mistletoe!' you exclaimed happily as you realised where he was going. 'Where did you...?' You didn't finish, because he had already leaned in and kissed you. Overjoyed, you threw your arms around him and pulled him closer. Someone in the line behind you started giggling, someone else clapping, but you paid no attention, completely absorbed into Kirsh's lips, which were devouring yours in an almost indecent way.
'Maybe we should continue at home?' he murmured, breaking the kiss and grabbing your hand, which was reaching for his buttocks.
'Oh, sorry, I got a little carried away.' You chuckled, hearing someone clear their throat disapprovingly behind you. 'It's probably the mulled wine.' You looked at Kirsh fondly. 'You're right, let's go home... oh, and I haven't told you yet, but you look so sexy in this Christmas outfit.'