Christmas carols, falling snow, crackling fireplace. All that represented Christmas and yet, there didn’t seem to be anyone outside with holiday cheer, the ground was starkly empty and everyone used heaters these days. The towering Christmas evergreen was replaced by a small store-bought tree, tucked in the corner of the apartment, its built in lights shining as brightly as they could.

            There were two stockings hung by the door. “Maybe Santa would forgive us and enter through the window.” The windows were however, plastered with as many stick on ornaments as was considered tasteful. A laptop was playing the “Best Christmas Carols from 2014” playlist on Spotify.

            It was Christmas, but Christmas in the twenty-first century.

            “Babe, can you hand me that star please? Do you want it straight on top or do you want it a little off to the side? You know forty-five degree angles are quite the rage these days.”

            You glared at your boyfriend as he grinned at you. He knew you liked everything to be just right and that if anything was off angle, it would bother you for days. “Kris!” You stomped your feet and he nodded.

            “Okay, okay. I get it. Straight on it goes.”

            It was your first Christmas in your apartment together and you wanted everything to be perfect. Yes, you burned the first batch of cookies and maybe the frosting on Santa’s hat was a little out of margin, but things turned out well. The tree, even though it wasn’t twelve feet and towering, was a formidable seven feet.

            You hummed to the songs as they came on and continued to hang Kris the ornaments to hang. “You know, decorating the tree normally comes before Christmas day. Why are we doing it the day of?”

            “Because,” you replied testily, “we got rid of that electronically lit one for this beauty. Hurry up, Kris! I want to open presents.”

            He made a noise of assent and started to drape the lights around the branches and thin needles of the tree. The two of you had spent Christmas Eve making some of the cut out decorations and you had criticized his art, because let’s be real: Kris really couldn’t draw.

            He held up the giant reindeer he had insisted on making and looked at you. “What would you do to me if I hung this right under the angel?”

            “My eyes would bleed.”

            Kris pouted and got off the ladder to walk to you. “Hey,” he complained softly. You pretended to ignore him and continued to make the hot chocolate. He stood behind you and blew mischievously at the box of powder so that it flew everywhere and dusted the counter.

            “Hey!” you turned around only to have him take you by the wrist.

            “Apologize,” he said. At first his eyes were doleful, cute, but as you shook your head, you saw a bit of the dominating side start to come out. “Won’t do it?” His voice dropped lower and you bit the inside of your cheek. Must. Not. Think. Dirty. Thoughts.

            Because it was Christmas and it was supposed to be cute and spent doing Christmas-y things, you decided not to take things further. “Okay, okay,” you conceded. “It’ll be like the tenth reindeer on Santa’s sleigh. Happy?”

            He grinned, a child again, and kissed your cheek. “Forget Rudolph. Kris-the-Gorgeous Reindeer is here!”

            You turned back to the mess on the counter with dismay but decided that in the spirit of the season, you were going to let him go. You continued to make the hot chocolate and placed the marshmallows on a platter before walking back into the living room. By then, the tree was lit and the music was on full blast.

            Kris was waltzing by himself as he sang along with Jingle Bells. You took a stray Santa hat and placed it on his head. “Want to open presents?”

            He opened one eye and took you in his arms, waltzing with you as he smirked. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

            You feigned innocence. “What?”

            “You know. Presents, unwrapping, opening up,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he turned you in another circle, nearly missing the coffee table.

            “Kris! This is Christmas. Can we not let our minds go to the gutter for a day?”

            He shrugged as he raised one arm to let you twirl. “Can’t help it. How about we wait until midnight, then it wouldn’t be Christmas anymore, right?”

            You laughed as the two of you collapsed on the couch. “That sounds much, much better.”

            You brought over the boxes of presents and he made it into a game. Each of you had gotten the other at least three things, one small, one medium, one large. “How about we close our eyes and take turns opening what we got for one another? Like you will close your eyes and decide whether you’ll open the first, second or third present you got me?”

            You closed your eyes and pointed at the first one. “Kris, open the small one!” You held your breath. He had been mentioning needing a new watch and you had gone to buy him one. The smile on his face when he saw what it was made the price tag so much more worth it.

            He had chosen the medium present for you and you tore through the wrapping to find a new laptop. “Because I know your old one is getting slow.”

            You leaned over and kissed him. Kris raised an eyebrow. “If this is going to give me a kiss, I wonder what the largest one would bring?”

            You glanced over at the gigantic box and wondered what in the world could possibly be that big? It had felt really light, so you were guessing a life-sized teddy bear. Kris opened the large present you got for him, which was a guitar. He had been wanting to learn for a while but never actually got out to buy the instrument.

            When he chose the large box for you, however, he made you close your eyes. “No peeking!” he warned.

            You placed your hands over your eyes and heard tearing sounds. There was a lot of hustle and movement and you shook your leg, impatient to see what it was. “Okay!” but his voice was muffled.

            You removed your hands and looked around. The wrappings on the box were torn but there was a lid and a sign saying, “Open me!” Kris was nowhere to be found.

            An inkling of suspicion came to you, and you took off the lid to find Kris sitting there, grinning at you. “Ta-dah!” he laughed as you pulled him up. “I’m your third present! Do you like it?” You were quiet as you tried to stop the tears from misting over. He saw and became concerned. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it? I’ll get you a replacement, anything,” he was babbling from nervousness.

            You shook your head and hugged him. “No. All I want for Christmas is you. This was perfect.”