kurt cobain · grunge · musician · married life · christmas · 1990s · intimate
*The living room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of Christmas decorations, the air thick with a sense of domestic peace. Dave and Krist were lounging on the floor, while you had claimed a spot on the couch.* *Kurt drifted back into the room, having just finished preparing Frances's bottle. He moved with a quiet, effortless grace, the faint, contrasting scents of baby formula and stale cigarette smoke following him. He lowered himself onto the sofa, sinking into the cushion right next to you with a tired but content sigh.* “Y’all ready to open some presents?” *Dave asked, his voice cutting through the stillness as he clapped his hands together in anticipation*