Christmas special --AU

Christmas special --AU
{This chapter is a Christmas special and has no connection to the main plot. Merry Christmas to all my sweetlings!}

….

“Bring me the dishes, Dante.” Vinorca was busy at the dining table, adjusting the runner and aligning the cutlery, her voice soft but purposeful as she called out to her husband.

“Of course, Bunny.” Dante leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head before heading toward the kitchen, the faint clink of crockery following him as he gathered the plates.

It was Christmas. Their first as a married couple.

They had celebrated before, countless times. As friends. As lovers. As fiancés. Those memories lingered warmly, layered with laughter, but this felt different. Heavier in the best way. Permanent. Theirs. 

Now, as husband and wife, the day carried a quiet intimacy that settled deep in the bones.

The house glowed under soft fairy lights, red cherries woven along the walls and banister, their sheen catching every flicker. 

A medium-sized Christmas tree stood proudly at the center of the living room, ornaments glinting as if they were watching over the home. The air smelled of spices and warmth, of food cooked together and comfort earned slowly, hands brushing, laughter spilling between tasks meant for two.

Dante returned with the dishes, placing them carefully on the table, adjusting each one until it felt right. “Did you ask your parents when they’re going to reach?”

“I did.” Vinorca glanced over her shoulder, checking the alignment of the chairs before meeting his eyes. “They said ten minutes.” A small smile curved her lips. “What about yours? They’re surely running late too.”

“Totally.” Dante let out a breath that sounded more fond than exasperated. “Our parents are really matching each other when it comes to being late.”

Vinorca shook her head, still smiling as she reached for the serving bowls, her bangles chiming softly with the movement.

She began ladling food with practiced ease, pausing now and then to taste, to adjust seasoning, to fuss in that way she only did when she cared too much. Dante watched her from the other side of the table, leaning back against the chair, arms crossed, eyes warm with something unspoken.

“You’re staring,” she pointed without looking at him, though the corner of her mouth lifted.

“I’m appreciating,” he answered easily, stepping closer to steal a bite straight from the spoon in her hand.

“Dante.” She swatted at him, but not before he tasted it. “You’re impossible.”

He hummed in approval, nodding solemnly. “You’re an excellent cook. I married well.”

She rolled her eyes, but the flush on her cheeks betrayed her. Marriage had not dulled their teasing. If anything, it had sharpened it, grounded it in something steadier. 

The comfort of knowing the other person was not going anywhere changed the way every small moment landed.

She set the spoon aside and turned to him fully, hands resting on her hips. “Go check if the candles are lit properly. The ones near the window keep flickering.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted playfully and moved toward the living room, crouching to adjust the candles, shielding the flames with his palm until they steadied. 

When he stood again, his gaze landed on the tree. It wasn’t extravagant. No towering height or excessive ornaments. Just enough lights, enough memories. He reached out and touched one ornament in particular, a small wooden star with their initials carved into it.

“You remember when we bought this?” he asked quietly.

Vinorca joined him, slipping her fingers into his. “You insisted we didn’t need decorations. Said they were unnecessary.”

“I was wrong,” he admitted. “As usual.”

She leaned into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. “Totally.”

The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, breaking the moment.

“They’re here,” Vinorca said, straightening instantly.

Dante laughed at the way she smoothed her hair, adjusted her sleeves, and rushed toward the door with barely contained excitement. 

He followed more slowly, watching as she opened it to reveal both sets of parents standing together, bundled in winter layers, faces bright with cheer.

“Welcome home.” Vinorca and Dante smiled as they took the gifts and bags from their parents’ hands. “Merry Christmas!”

“You both look wonderful,” all four of them said at once, laughter following as coats were hung and shoes slipped off, the small chaos of family settling in filling the space.

They gathered around the dining table soon after, chairs scraping softly against the floor as everyone took their places. 

Vinorca hovered for a moment, making sure each dish was within reach, adjusting a serving spoon here, straightening a napkin there, until Dante caught her wrist gently and tugged her down beside him.

“Sit,” he murmured, low enough that only she heard. “You’ve done enough.”

She exhaled, letting herself relax into the chair, her knee brushing his beneath the table. The food was passed around, plates filling slowly, compliments offered freely. 

Her mother insisted the aroma alone was enough to make her hungry again, while Dante’s father laughed about how quiet the house felt compared to earlier years.

When the meal ended, Vinorca stood to collect the plates, only to be waved off immediately.

“Not today,” her mother said firmly. “You cooked. You sit.”

Dante didn’t argue. He stayed beside her as the others moved around the kitchen, the sound of running water and clinking dishes drifting in.

He laced his fingers through hers under the table, thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles, a quiet reassurance that didn’t need acknowledgment.

“Merry Christmas, husband,” Vinorca wished shyly.

Dante lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Merry Christmas, Wifey.” As he said it, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Dante?!” Vinorca’s eyes widened. “Everyone is here.”

“So what? We’re married.” His hand slid to the nape of her neck, steady and familiar, his lips brushing against hers. “Can I kiss you, Bunny?”

Her face burned, warmth rushing to her cheeks, but she nodded. Dante kissed her gently, unhurried, as if the moment belonged only to them. “I’m so happy to have you in my life, Bunny. We’re going to celebrate Christmas, and every festival, together for the rest of our lives.”