Robin
I'm curled up beside Denny on the couch. We both have plates loaded with my signature Christmas fruitcake smeared with cinnamon butter, and Denny is humming happily as he eats his.
"This is so good, honey," he compliments me. I squeeze him lightly, my head leaning on his shoulder, and smile.
"Thank you," I reply, turning my attention back to the movie. My favorite holiday film, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, is on. My family only ever begrudgingly watched it with me, but Denny had excitedly exclaimed that he wanted to watch it when I asked.
I'm consistently amazed by him; every day he gives me a new reason to love him more.
When Denny finishes, he sets his plate on the coffee table and stretches. "I'm going to get chubby," he teases, poking his belly. "I need to exercise more."
I giggle, setting my own plate aside and throwing my arms around him. "Don't worry," I assure him. "You'll still be cute."
He grins down at me wickedly, and then he's standing up from the couch and swinging me around in a circle. I squeal and start to laugh as he yells, "I'm cute! I'm cute! I'm cute! I'm cute! She said I'm cute! She said I'm cute!" He knows it's my favorite scene from the movie, and I hang on tight until he flops onto the couch on his back with me on top of him.
I rest my forehead on his, cradling his neck in one hand and splaying the other over his chest. Once we've both stopped laughing, I kiss his nose and tell him, "Okay, now I think you're cuter."
He wiggles his eyebrows at me. "Damn straight I am," he agrees.
Before I can respond, he pulls my face down to his and we kiss between more laughter.
