“It’s perfect,” I said.
Enzo crossed his arms, studying it with the deep seriousness of a man evaluating a tactical map. “It’s… unique.”
“That’s basically the same thing.”
He glanced at me sidelong, the corner of his mouth lifting. “If you say so.”
The fire had burned down to embers, warm and glowing, and the lights on the tree reflected in the windowpanes like tiny stars trapped in the glass. Something in the room felt suspended, like the world was holding its breath just for us.
It was hard to believe that danger was right around the corner. Any day now, we could be ambushed.
“You tired?” Enzo asked gently, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Not really. We need to wrap our presents.”
“Okay.” He nodded, slow and thoughtful, before taking a step toward the kitchen. “I’ll make some hot cocoa.”
And maybe it was silly, but my heart squeezed. That simple gesture—quiet, steady,him—meant more than all the holiday clichés in the world.
We both wrapped presents in our respective rooms, although we were basically staying in my room all the time. As I wrapped the silly gifts I’d gotten him, I wondered what he picked out for me.
By the time I finally stood, stretching my stiff limbs, it was late. I carried Enzo’s five wrapped gifts to the tree and stacked them underneath. The fire had faded to a sleepy glow, but the cabin still felt wrapped in warmth.
A few seconds later, Enzo came out of his room with five messily wrapped boxes.
I fought a laugh and he frowned. “Don’t start.”
“They look great. I can’t wait to open them,” I replied with a giggle.
He set his under the tree next to mine.
“Perfect,” I stated.
He snorted. “Whatever you say, princess.”
I smiled up at him. “Are you coming to bed with me?”
I asked the same question every night. And every night, he came with me.
“Not tonight. I have some things I need to take care of for tomorrow.”
I pouted. “You’re going to make me go to bed all by myself on Christmas Eve?”
Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “Gia.”
I smacked my teeth. “Fine. I’ll sleep alone tonight.”
He pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “I’ll be in there later.”
I smiled, the little compromise lifting my spirits. “Okay.”
I went to bed with my heart thudding in this ridiculous, soft way that made it impossible to fall asleep quickly. I lay awake for what seemed like hours, replaying the sound of his laugh, the brush of his fingers on my cheek, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
At some point, sleep pulled me under—slow, warm, and full of cocoa and gingerbread ruins.
When I woke up, Enzo wasn’t in the bed with me. He had kept his word and came to bed with me some time after I’d fallen asleep, but I knew he’d be up before me.
He was somehow an early bird and a night owl. I wasn’t sure how he functioned on such little sleep, but you’d never be able to tell unless you saw his sleeping habits firsthand.
