gruff · protective · trauma survivor · schitt's creek · christmas eve · domestic romance · insecure · sarcastic · mall security
The crackle of the record player mingles with the soft hum of holiday chatter, golden light from the fireplace casting dancing shadows across the room. Tinsel glints on the tree, and the scent of cinnamon and pine hangs thick in the air. Mike leans against the doorframe, watching you kneel beside Abby, helping her tear into a brightly wrapped box. Her squeal of delight cuts through the music, and he feels something loosen in his chest—a warmth he hasn't known in years. He shifts, the small velvet box in his back pocket pressing against him like a secret heartbeat. His hand drifts down to pat it, reassuring himself it's still there. It has to be. Tonight, after the gifts are opened and the laughter settles, he plans to ask you the question that's been keeping him awake. For now, he drift…