19. Chapter 19

Chapter nineteen

1st December 2018

A s I gaze out the window, the world outside is blanketed in a serene layer of snow, softly falling like powdered sugar from the sky. It’s only the beginning of December, but the magic of the season is already palpable. Inside our cosy living room, we’ve set up our Christmas tree, standing proudly in front of the window, awaiting its festive adornment.

Laelia and I have spent countless hours exploring every festive aisle we could find, from the brightest tinsel to the most whimsical ornaments. The living room is now a treasure trove of Christmas cheer—boxes upon boxes of shimmering baubles, twinkling lights, and a delightful assortment of holiday-themed knick-knacks that make it look like we’ve raided Santa’s workshop. There’s also a mountain of wrapping paper, tape, and ribbons neatly organised for later, though those are more Laelia’s domain than mine.

As I sink into the comfort of our sofa, I watch Laelia with a smile. Her eyes are alight with the kind of excitement you only see in children at Christmas. The joy she finds in decorating the tree is truly infectious. She’s like a child in a candy store, overwhelmed by happiness and anticipation.

She eagerly begins to sort through the pile of decorations, arranging them by colour and style. Her eyes light up with each new discovery, and then, as if suddenly remembering my presence, she looks over at me with a playful grin. She gestures at the colourful array of ornaments spread out before her.

With a chuckle, I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “So, what colour scheme are we going with this year?”

Her smile falters momentarily as she ponders, chewing on her lip and twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Deciding on just one colour scheme is like asking a child to pick just one toy—it’s practically impossible for her. I watch her expression shift through various stages of deliberation, knowing this is a decision she’ll relish.

There are four choices laid out before us: pink and glitter, blue and stripes, red and polka dots, and multi-colour. Each one is beautiful in its own way, but I can tell from her furrowed brow that this is a tough choice.

After what feels like an eternity but is likely just a few minutes, she finally points to the pink and glitter assortment with a decisive nod. “This one,” she declares with a triumphant smile.

I mentally sigh, wishing we could go with the multi-colour for a more varied look, but if she’s happy, that’s what matters most. With a resigned but loving smile, I nod in agreement.

Laelia carefully packs away the unused decorations into boxes adorned with festive designs, labelling each one meticulously. I’ve learned to let her indulge in her love for organisation in this one instance, though I must admit, her tendency to label everything does make me chuckle. If it were up to her, our entire home would be labeled from top to bottom.

With only the pink and glitter decorations left, she pushes a box towards me, and I open it to reveal pastel pink baubles shaped like hearts, glittering in the light. We approach our white Christmas tree, which Laelia adores because it reminds her of a snowy winter wonderland. I carefully hang a bauble on one of the branches, and Laelia, holding a box of dark pink, shiny baubles, stands on the other side.

As she becomes engrossed in decorating, her concentration is adorable. Her tongue peeks out in concentration, and I can’t help but smile and chuckle softly at her focused expression.

When she pauses and looks at me with a slightly furrowed brow, I can’t resist teasing her. “What’s wrong?”

She crosses her arms and pops her hip, giving me a mock-serious look. “What’s so funny?”

I shake my head, still smiling. “Nothing, really.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously, but she eventually turns back to her task, her focus returning to the tree. I continue to watch her, captivated by the way her tongue sticks out in concentration—a sight I find endlessly endearing.

As we finish decorating the tree with the last of the baubles and a touch of ribbon, Laelia decides to skip the tinsel this year. We step back to admire our handiwork, and I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small, wrapped package the size of a tennis ball. Laelia looks at it with curiosity and tilts her head.

“What’s this?” she asks, her voice tinged with excitement.

I smile warmly. “There’s one last thing missing.”

She unwraps the small package to reveal a custom-made bauble. It features a photo of us from our first date at the butterfly house—a memory I cherish deeply. Her eyes fill with tears of joy as she looks up at me, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Killian,” she says softly. “It’s beautiful.”

Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around my neck, her lips finding mine in a surprise kiss. I return the kiss, and we both smile into it, savouring the moment. She pulls away just enough to look into my eyes.

“I love you so much, Killian,” she says, her voice brimming with emotion. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I absolutely love it.”

I gently wipe away a tear that has escaped down her cheek. “And I love you, Laelia. Always and forever.”

Her smile widens as she wipes her face with the sleeve of her sweater. She takes my hand and leads me back to the tree, where she positions the bauble labelled ‘L & K’ with great care. Standing behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist as she reaches up to hang the ornament. She leans into me, her contented smile growing as she gazes at our special decoration.

As we stand together, basking in the glow of our first Christmas in our own home, I know this moment—and many more like it—will be treasured forever. Our first Christmas tree, adorned with our bauble, marks the beginning of countless joyful holidays to come.