Chapter 14

The evening air felt cooler than the previous days, a soft breeze moving through the crowded streets as they walked side by side. The city around them buzzed with life. Scooters passed by them, distant laughter echoed from nearby cafés, and warm lights spilled from shop windows onto the pavement.

Santa adjusted his pace automatically to match Perth’s slower steps. He noticed it immediately when Perth’s stride faltered for a second.

“How’s your ankle?” Santa asked, glancing down briefly. “Still hurting?”

Perth looked ahead, hands tucked inside the pockets of his hoodie. “A little uncomfortable,” he admitted. “But it’s fine. It’s not that serious anymore.”

Santa frowned slightly anyway. “You should’ve rested more.”

Perth let out a quiet laugh. “You sound like Pond now.”

“Maybe Pond is right.”

“That’s terrifying.”

Santa smiled despite himself.

The conversation flowed easier than he expected. Not perfect, not effortless like before, but lighter than the awkward tension that had existed between them for months. There were still pauses sometimes, moments where both of them seemed unsure of what was safe to say, yet neither pulled away from them.

Perth talked about one of his classes, complaining about an assignment due next week. Santa listened, occasionally teasing him when he exaggerated dramatically about how difficult it was.

“You’re acting like your professor asked you to solve world hunger.”

“You don’t understand my suffering.”

“I understand that you waited until the last minute again.”

Perth clicked his tongue and bumped his shoulder lightly against Santa’s arm. The contact lasted barely a second, but Santa still felt it afterward.

When they finally reached the restaurant, the smell of grilled meat and spices wrapped around them immediately. The place was lively without being too loud, conversations blending softly with music playing in the background.

As soon as they sat down, Perth grabbed the menu. Santa had barely opened his mouth before Perth looked up at the waiter and started ordering.

Santa blinked in surprise.

Perth listed everything naturally, without hesitation, including Santa’s usual drink and the side dish he always added.

The waiter left with a polite nod, leaving Santa staring at him across the table.

“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted.”

Perth looked genuinely confused for a second. “Because I already know.”

Santa leaned back slightly, caught off guard by how casually he had said it.

After everything that had happened between them, after the distance and the silence, Santa had assumed there were things Perth no longer remembered about him. Small habits disappeared easily when people stopped being close.

But apparently not.

“You still remember?” Santa asked quietly.

Perth gave him a small look, almost offended by the question. “I remember everything you like.”

Santa’s chest tightened unexpectedly.

Perth rested his chin against his hand, eyes drifting upward as if he was searching through a list in his head.

“You hate cilantro.”

Santa snorted softly.

“You always steal fries even when you say you’re not hungry,” Perth continued.

“That’s not true.”

“It absolutely is. And you drink hot coffee only when it’s raining.” A faint smile appeared on his lips. “You also pretend you don’t like sweet desserts, but every single time you end up eating half of mine.”

Santa looked down for a second, unable to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.

Perth remembered all of that so easily.

And somehow, that affected Santa far more than he expected.

For a brief moment, the noise around them faded into the background, leaving only the quiet warmth settling between them little by little. The waiter returned a few minutes later with their drinks, interrupting the silence before it could become too heavy.

Santa wrapped his fingers around the cold glass, watching Perth from the corner of his eye. Perth looked different lately. Not completely. He still had the same teasing smile, the same habit of talking with his hands when he got too invested in a story, the same spark in his eyes, but there was something softer now. More careful.

As if Perth was trying not to push too hard. Trying not to ruin whatever this was becoming again, and Santa hated how much that realization affected him.

“You’re staring,” Perth said suddenly, amusement flickering across his face.

Santa immediately looked away. “I’m not.”

“You definitely are.”

Santa rolled his eyes, but the familiar joke made warmth spread through his chest anyway. Their food arrived shortly after, filling the table with delicious scents. Perth pushed one of the plates slightly toward Santa without even looking, another gesture so natural that it almost hurt.

For weeks, Santa had convinced himself that things between them could never go back to normal. Too many things had been said. Too many moments had gone wrong.

But sitting here now, watching Perth complain dramatically because his ankle made it difficult to sit comfortably, Santa realized he had missed this more than he wanted to admit. He had missed Perth.

Perth suddenly paused in the middle of his sentence. “Why are you smiling like that?”

Santa blinked. “Like what?”

“Like you’re laughing at me in your head.”

“I’m literally just eating.”

Perth narrowed his eyes suspiciously before pointing his chopsticks at him. “You’re being weird tonight.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Perth laughed softly. The sound settled warmly around Santa, familiar enough to loosen something tight inside him. For the first time in a long while, he felt happy, really happy.

By the time they stepped outside the restaurant, the streets had grown quieter. Santa glanced at Perth the moment they started walking again.

“You should head back and rest,” he said. “Your ankle’s probably already suffering.”

Perth scoffed immediately. “It’s not that bad.”

Santa gave him a look and Perth ignored it completely.

“I’m walking you back to your dorm.”

“There’s no need,” Santa replied. “It’s not far.”

“And?”

“And your ankle is injured Perth.”

Perth clicked his tongue softly. “You make it sound like I lost a leg.”

“You almost fell trying to sit down earlier.”

“That chair attacked me.”

Santa laughed under his breath before shaking his head. “Seriously, go home. I’ll be fine.”

Perth stopped walking suddenly. Santa turned toward him, confused. Under the glow of the streetlights, Perth’s expression softened slightly, the teasing look fading from his face.

“I know you’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “I still want to walk you back.”

Santa felt his chest tighten a little at the sincerity in his voice. There was no hesitation in the way Perth said it, just simple honesty. For a second, Santa didn’t know what to answer.

“You’re stubborn,” Santa muttered eventually.

A grin immediately appeared on Perth’s face. “You already knew that.”

Santa sighed dramatically, pretending to sound annoyed. “Fine. But if your ankle gets worse, I’m not carrying you.”

Perth started walking again beside him, clearly pleased with himself. “You would if I asked nicely.”

“In your dreams.”

“I think you secretly enjoy taking care of me.”

Santa snorted softly. “Your ego is unbelievable.”

Still, he slowed his pace slightly without thinking about it, just enough to make walking easier for Perth.

*

The weeks after that seemed to fall into place naturally.

Neither of them talked about it directly. There was no serious conversation defining what they were doing or where things were heading. Somehow, they simply started finding their way back to each other little by little.

And neither of them tried to stop it.

Perth’s ankle improved quickly over the following days. The limp gradually disappeared until Santa barely noticed it anymore, aside from the occasional complaint whenever Perth had to take the stairs too fast.

“You’re still injured,” Santa reminded him one afternoon when Perth jogged across the street to catch up with him.

Perth barely looked affected anymore. “You worry too much.”

“You almost tripped.”

“But I didn’t.”

Santa rolled his eyes while Perth grinned proudly beside him.

They began spending more time together again without even planning it.

Sometimes they studied together at the library, though Perth usually lost focus after less than twenty minutes. Santa would try to concentrate while Perth whispered unnecessary comments beside him or complained dramatically about being hungry.

“I think my brain is shutting down,” Perth whispered one evening, dropping his head onto the table.

“You’ve been studying for fifteen minutes.”

“That’s enough suffering for today.”

Santa sighed, trying to hide his smile as he pushed Perth’s notes back toward him.

Other times, they ate together in the evenings like they used to before everything became complicated. Perth still stole food from Santa’s plate without asking first. Santa still pretended to be annoyed every single time.

One evening, Perth dragged Santa to a shopping mall because he wanted to buy new shoes.

Two hours later, Perth still hadn’t chosen anything.

“How are you this indecisive?” Santa asked, exhausted as he sat on a bench outside another store.

Perth looked down at two nearly identical pairs of sneakers with deep concentration. “This is an important life decision.”

“They’re literally the same shoes.”

“They’re completely different.”

“They’re both white.”

Perth gasped softly like Santa had personally offended him.

Santa laughed before he could stop himself.

The sound made Perth stare at him for a second longer than usual, then he smiled too.

Some nights, they met outside the university for no particular reason other than wanting to see each other.

They watched movies together at Perth’s condo, though Perth talked during important scenes and constantly guessed the ending incorrectly. Santa complained every time, but secretly, he liked hearing Perth’s running commentary in the background.

During one movie, Perth ended up falling asleep halfway through.

Santa glanced toward him when the apartment suddenly became quiet.

Perth had fallen asleep against the couch, one arm resting lazily across his stomach while his head tilted slightly to the side. The light from the television flickered softly across his face, illuminating the relaxed expression Santa rarely got to see.

For a moment, Santa forgot about the movie completely. His chest felt strangely warm as he looked at him.

Perth always moved through life so loudly, constantly talking, teasing, laughing, filling every space around him without effort. Seeing him like this, calm and unguarded, made something soften deeply inside Santa.

He wanted to get closer. The thought appeared so naturally that it caught him off guard.

Santa swallowed quietly, eyes lingering on Perth’s face longer than they probably should have. His hair was slightly messy, falling over his forehead from where he had been shifting around earlier. Without thinking too much about it, Santa reached out carefully and brushed the strands back gently.

Perth didn’t wake up.

Instead, he leaned unconsciously toward the touch. That tiny movement affected Santa far more than it should have. A quiet breath escaped him before he leaned forward almost instinctively, pressing a soft kiss against Perth’s forehead.

The contact lasted barely a second. Still, Santa remained there afterward, close enough to hear Perth’s slow breathing, his heart beating a little too fast for someone simply watching a movie.

Another afternoon, they took a walk through a nearby park after classes ended early. The trees moved gently with the wind while sunlight filtered through the branches above them. Families gathered near the lake, children running across the grass while couples sat together beneath the shade.

Perth walked beside him quietly for once.

Santa glanced at him suspiciously. “Why are you so silent?”

Perth shrugged. “Just tired.”

“You? Quiet voluntarily? That’s concerning.”

Perth snorted softly before nudging Santa’s shoulder with his own.

The contact was brief, casual. Still, Santa felt aware of it long afterward.

Things between them still weren’t exactly the same as before. There were moments where the past lingered quietly between them, unspoken but present. Sometimes Santa caught Perth hesitating before saying something, as if worried about crossing a line again. Sometimes Santa did the same.

But despite everything, being around Perth started feeling natural again, like returning somewhere familiar after being away for too long. And after all, trust was slowly coming back again.

*

A few days later, Santa was having lunch with Phuwin and Bonnie near the university while students moved noisily around them.

Bonnie had been watching him suspiciously for the past ten minutes.

Santa noticed immediately.

“What?” he finally asked while opening his drink.

Bonnie leaned forward slightly. “So?”

Santa blinked. “So what?”

Phuwin looked painfully unimpressed beside her. “You’ve been spending almost every day with Perth again.”

“And?”

“And we want details,” Bonnie said dramatically.

Santa sighed softly, already regretting sitting with them. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Both of them stared at him in silence.

Santa looked away first.

“That bad, huh?” Phuwin muttered.

“It’s not bad,” Santa replied quickly. “It’s just…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Complicated.”

Bonnie rested her chin against her hand. “Do you still like him?”

Santa nearly choked on his drink. Phuwin snorted while Bonnie looked completely unbothered by the chaos she caused.

“What kind of question is that,” Santa said dryly after coughing.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Santa stayed quiet for a moment, eyes lowering toward his tray.

The truth was, there was no point denying it anymore. Not after all the time they had spent together recently. Not after the movies nights. Not after realizing how easily his feelings returned the second Perth stepped back into his life again.

Or maybe they had never really left.

“I’m still confused,” Santa admitted quietly. “About everything that happened before. About us.” He let out a small breath. “But I think… at some point, I already knew I wanted to get back with him.”

Bonnie’s expression softened immediately. Phuwin looked far less surprised than Santa would have liked.

“You told him that?” Phuwin asked.

Santa immediately shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Santa muttered, embarrassed already, “I wanted him to make the first move.”

Bonnie stared at him for a second before smiling knowingly. “Oh, you’re serious serious.”

Santa hid part of his face behind his drink. “Can both of you stop looking at me like that?”

Phuwin ignored him completely. “So you’re waiting for Perth to confess or something?”

“I’m not waiting,” Santa defended weakly.

“You absolutely are,” Bonnie said.

Santa groaned quietly while both of them laughed. Still, his smile faded slightly a moment later.

“It’s just…” He hesitated again. “Sometimes it feels like he’s holding himself back around me.”

Phuwin frowned a little. “What do you mean?”

“He’s careful now,” Santa explained softly. “Too careful sometimes.”

Bonnie listened quietly while Santa absentmindedly played with the straw of his drink.

“Before, Perth never hesitated about anything with me,” Santa continued. “Now it’s like he’s constantly thinking before he says or does something.”

And Santa understood why. Things between them had ended badly before. Perth probably didn’t want to ruin whatever progress they were making now.

But lately, Santa found himself wanting more from him again. More contacts between them, more touches, more kisses, especially the kisses.

Sometimes he caught Perth looking at him in ways that made his chest tighten painfully, only for Perth to pull back a second later like he suddenly remembered he shouldn’t.

It frustrated Santa more than he expected.

“He probably doesn’t want to pressure you,” Bonnie said gently.

“I know,” Santa admitted. “But I want him to stop being so careful.”

The words slipped out before Santa could stop them.

Phuwin immediately smirked.

“Oh, you’re down bad.”

“Shut up.”

*

The sound of weights hitting the floor echoed through the gym while music blasted faintly from the speakers overhead.

Perth wiped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of his shirt before reaching for his water bottle. Across from him, Pond was watching him with narrowed eyes instead of focusing on his own workout.

Perth noticed immediately.

“What?” he asked between breaths.

Pond crossed his arms. “So. You and Santa.”

Perth nearly sighed on instinct.

Apparently everybody had suddenly become obsessed with his love life lately.

“There’s nothing to report,” he muttered.

“Bullshit.”

Perth snorted softly before sitting down on the nearby bench. His muscles ached pleasantly from training, though his ankle still felt slightly sore after too much movement.

Pond sat beside him a second later.

“You’re basically attached to each other again,” Pond continued. “You think nobody noticed?”

Perth twisted the cap off his bottle slowly, trying to ignore how obvious things had become recently.

The truth was, spending time with Santa again felt dangerously easy. Every day seemed to pull him closer until Perth constantly found himself looking for Santa without realizing it. Waiting for his messages. Wanting to hear his laugh. Wanting to stay beside him a little longer every single time they met.

It honestly scared him a little.

“I know what I want,” Perth admitted quietly after a moment.

Pond raised an eyebrow.

Perth stared down at the water bottle in his hands. “I want to ask him to be my boyfriend, for real this time, no bullshit anymore.”

The words felt terrifying even after saying them out loud, because Perth meant them completely.

Pond looked unsurprised. “Okay. Then do it.”

Perth let out a humorless laugh. “You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple.”

“No, it’s not.”

Pond frowned slightly at the tension in Perth’s voice.

Perth leaned back against the bench, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know if Santa would actually say yes.”

Pond blinked once. Then twice.

“You cannot be serious.”

Perth looked at him defensively. “Why?”

Pond stared at him like he had personally offended him. “Because he obviously still likes you, dumbass.”

Perth immediately looked away. His chest tightened painfully at the words, not because he didn’t want them to be true, but because part of him still struggled to believe he deserved that.

After everything that happened between them before, Perth had expected Santa to keep his distance permanently. Instead, Santa did the opposite and Perth couldn’t shake the fear that one wrong move would ruin everything again.

Sometimes he caught himself almost reaching for Santa before stopping at the last second, almost leaning closer.

“I don’t know how to act around him sometimes,” Perth admitted quietly.

Pond looked less annoyed now, listening carefully.

Perth rubbed a hand over his face before laughing softly at himself. “Half the time I just want to touch him.”

Pond snorted immediately.

“I’m serious,” Perth complained. “I want to hold his hand all the time. Kiss him. Pull him closer.” His voice lowered slightly. “Sometimes it takes everything in me not to.”

And that was the problem. Because Perth wanted Santa constantly now that they were close again. The urge sat beneath every conversation, every glance, every accidental touch. But fear always stopped him before he could act on it.

“I’m scared he’ll push me away,” Perth admitted quietly.

For a second, Pond simply stared at him. Then he groaned loudly and dragged both hands down his face.

“You are actually fucking stupid.”

Perth frowned. “Thanks.”

“No seriously, this is painful to watch.”

Perth shoved his shoulder lightly. “You’re not helping.”

Pond ignored him completely. “Santa literally looks at you like you hung the moon and you’re here acting like he’ll reject you for touching his hand.”

Perth stayed quiet, because hearing that made hope bloom inside his chest too quickly, too intensely.

Pond pointed at him accusingly. “You’re blind. Completely blind.”

Perth laughed weakly despite himself. Maybe Pond was right. Maybe he was being stupid. But the idea of losing Santa again terrified him enough to make him cautious about every little thing.

*

A few nights later, Santa was back at Perth’s condo again.

At this point, it had started happening so often that neither of them questioned it anymore.

Tonight, they were sprawled across the couch with a movie playing in the background, though Santa had barely followed the plot for the past twenty minutes. Not when Perth was sitting this close to him.

Their shoulders brushed occasionally whenever Perth shifted position, and every small contact made Santa painfully aware of him all over again.

It was becoming unbearable, because Perth still hadn’t done anything.

No matter how many lingering glances Santa caught. No matter how soft Perth looked at him sometimes. No matter how obvious the tension between them had become lately.

Perth still held himself back constantly.

Santa was starting to lose patience.

On the screen, some dramatic scene was unfolding, but Santa suddenly grabbed the remote and paused the movie. The apartment immediately fell quiet.

Perth blinked in confusion beside him. “Why did you stop it?”

Santa turned toward him fully, legs folding slightly beneath him on the couch. Perth’s expression shifted immediately the second he realized Santa was serious about something.

“What?” Perth asked carefully.

Santa stared at him for a moment. Then, before he could overthink it and lose his nerve, he asked directly:

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Perth froze.

Santa almost would have laughed if his own heart was not pounding so hard.

Perth stared at him like his brain had stopped functioning entirely. “…What?”

Santa’s face felt warm now, but he forced himself not to look away. “You heard me.”

Perth continued staring at him in stunned silence. For once in his life, he looked genuinely speechless.

Santa crossed his arms slightly, trying to hide how nervous he suddenly felt under Perth’s intense gaze.

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks,” Santa continued. “You look at me like you want to do something, then you stop yourself every single time.”

Perth opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Santa almost smiled despite himself. It was strangely satisfying seeing Perth this flustered for once.

Finally, Perth dragged a hand across his face slowly before exhaling.

“…Because I’m trying to respect your boundaries,” he admitted quietly.

The honesty in his voice made Santa’s chest ache immediately.

Perth looked away briefly, jaw tightening slightly. “I didn’t want to mess things up again.”

Santa’s expression softened.

Perth let out a quiet laugh without humor. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

The confession sent warmth rushing through Santa instantly.

Perth finally looked back at him, eyes softer now, filled with something painfully vulnerable.

“But I was scared you’d pull away,” he admitted.

Santa felt his heart squeeze so hard it almost hurt.

This idiot.

Before Perth could say anything else, Santa moved closer first. Slowly enough to give Perth time to stop him. Perth didn’t of course.

Perth’s eyes dropped briefly to Santa’s lips, and the look on his face alone nearly made Santa lose what little confidence he had gathered to do this.

“You’re really stupid sometimes,” Santa whispered softly.

Then he kissed him.

The reaction was immediate.

Perth inhaled sharply against his mouth, one hand gripping Santa’s waist almost instinctively, like he had wanted this for so long that holding back was no longer possible once Santa finally closed the distance between them.

The kiss started soft for barely a second before it deepened naturally.

Hungry.

Weeks of tension, frustration, longing, and restraint crashed between them all at once.

Santa shifted closer without even thinking, fingers sliding into Perth’s hair as Perth pulled him fully onto his lap. The sudden movement made Santa gasp softly against his lips, and Perth kissed him harder immediately after hearing the sound.

Like he had completely lost control now.

And honestly, so had Santa.

Perth’s hand tightened slightly at his waist while the other moved up carefully along his neck, thumb brushing beneath Santa’s jaw in a way that made heat rush through his entire body.

God.

Santa had missed this.

Missed him.

Perth kissed like he had been starving.

Every restrained glance from the past weeks suddenly made sense now. Every hesitation. Every unfinished movement. Perth had been holding himself back far more than Santa realized.

Now that restraint was gone.

Perth tilted his head slightly, kissing him deeper until Santa’s breathing became uneven. The kiss was messy in the best way, desperate and emotional at the same time, like both of them were trying to make up for lost time all at once.

Santa could feel Perth’s heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

“Fuck baby…,” Perth breathed softly against his lips, sounding almost overwhelmed.

The shaky sound alone made Santa kiss him again immediately.

Perth responded instantly, pulling him impossibly closer until there was barely any space left between them. Santa could feel the warmth of Perth’s hands through his shirt, grounding and intoxicating at the same time.

When Perth finally kissed along the corner of his mouth briefly before returning to his lips again, Santa let out the quietest breath against him.

That seemed to completely destroy whatever self-control Perth still had left.

Perth kissed him again and again like he couldn’t get enough, slower now but somehow even more intense, every touch filled with everything he had been forcing himself not to show for weeks.

Santa’s chest ached from how much affection was hidden inside every movement.

Eventually, they pulled apart only slightly, both breathing harder than before.

Perth rested his forehead against Santa’s, eyes still closed for a moment like he was trying to process the fact that this was real.

His hands never left Santa’s waist.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Perth admitted quietly, voice rough.

Santa smiled softly despite his racing heartbeat.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I noticed.”

Perth kissed him one more time before pulling back slightly, not far, just enough to create a small distance between them.

Santa frowned immediately, still breathing unevenly, his fingers loosely tangled in Perth’s hair.

Perth looked just as affected as he felt. His lips were swollen from kissing, his hands still resting firmly against Santa’s waist like he physically did not want to let go.

Which made what he said next even more confusing.

“We should stop.”

Santa blinked at him in disbelief.

“…What?”

Perth let out a quiet laugh, though it sounded strained. “Trust me, this is already difficult enough.”

Santa stared at him, frustration immediately rising in his chest.

“Why would we stop?”

Because from the way Perth had just kissed him, stopping seemed like the last thing he actually wanted.

Perth closed his eyes briefly like he was trying to gather self-control again before looking back at him.

“Because if we keep going,” he admitted honestly, voice rougher than before, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold myself back.”

Heat rushed instantly to Santa’s face.

Perth’s hands tightened slightly at his waist before forcing themselves to loosen again.

“And I don’t want our first time after getting back together to happen like this.”

The words made Santa’s heartbeat stumble.

Getting back together.

Perth had said it so naturally.

Santa tried very hard not to focus on how happy that alone made him feel.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’re seriously stopping now because you suddenly decided to be respectful?”

Perth snorted softly. “I can stop being respectful if you want.”

Santa immediately felt his face grow warmer.

Perth smiled faintly at his reaction before his expression softened again.

“I’m serious,” he said quietly. “I want to do things properly this time.”

Santa stayed quiet, listening.

Perth looked strangely nervous suddenly, which honestly felt unfair after completely destroying Santa’s ability to think five minutes ago.

“I want to take you on a real date,” Perth admitted. “Not just us hanging out like we’ve been doing.”

Santa’s frustration faded little by little, replaced by something much softer.

Perth continued rubbing his thumb gently against Santa’s waist absentmindedly while speaking.

“I want to ask you properly to be with me again,” he said quietly. “I want us to actually talk things out.” A small breath escaped him. “And after that… then we can go further.”

The implication behind his words sent warmth through Santa all over again.

Still, Santa crossed his arms slightly, pretending to remain annoyed.

“So you’re telling me you kissed me like that just to stop afterward.”

Perth looked completely unapologetic. “You started it, not me. But yeah pretty much.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Santa tried to glare at him, but it became difficult when Perth was still looking at him with that soft expression.

“You really planned all of this?” Santa asked quietly after a moment.

Perth hesitated briefly before admitting, “I’ve been thinking about it for days.”

That alone melted the rest of Santa’s irritation instantly.

This idiot had really been overthinking everything alone while Santa was practically waiting for him to make a move already.

Santa sighed dramatically before leaning closer again until their foreheads touched lightly.

“You know,” he murmured softly, “You make things unnecessarily hard sometimes.”

Perth smiled a little. “Probably.”

Still, neither of them moved away.

And even if Santa was still slightly frustrated, he couldn’t deny how much affection settled warmly inside his chest hearing Perth talk about wanting to do things right with him this time.

——
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