Blade’s P.O.V.
The fire crackled softly next to us, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. I held Meghan close, the blanket wrapped snugly around us as we lounged in front of the hearth. She fit perfectly against me, her head resting on my shoulder, her fingers idly tracing patterns on my chest. For once, the silence between us wasn’t awkward; it felt... right.
“OK,” I said, breaking the quiet.
“So, it’s Christmas.”
Meghan tilted her head to look up at me, her brows arching.
“And?”
“And,” I said with a smirk,
“Christmas is about giving. I didn’t get you a present—”
“No kidding, Sherlock,” she interrupted dryly.
I ignored her, my grin widening.
“—but I was thinking, what if we give each other stories instead?”
She blinked.
“Stories?”
“Yeah,” I said, my tone playful.
