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The lights of homes and buildings outside the window reflected in Adam’s eyes as he lifted his glass of champagne to his lips, turning to his companion. “Although I am most excited to celebrate the coming year with you,” he mused, “I cannot say I have ever tasted such a drink.”
“Well, traditionally,” you teased, “most do not sample the champagne until after the date actually changes.”
“The bubbles made it look most interesting,” he protested, looking away a little sheepishly, “and you know me to be too curious not to sample it.”
An eruption of screams and cheers overtook the crowd in the street below as the church bells rang to announce the turning of the year. He clinked his glass against yours then, a clumsy attempt to recreate the toasts he had often read about. “Here’s to a year of memories.”
You, however, could think of a better way to celebrate the occasion. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his. As with every time, he pulled away after a moment to look at you with soft but adoring eyes. And in this little house of yours, the two of you began the new year enveloped with love.