CALEB & I
Part 9
(Christmas Decorations) 🎄
Caleb pretends he hates decorating… but is the first one to pull out the boxes.
He stands with his arms crossed, trying to look Very Serious.
But he literally dropped the boxes on the couch five seconds after you whispered, “Should we start?”
“…You looked too excited bringing those.”
“I don’t get excited. I get… prepared.”
“You almost tripped on the carpet.”
“…No, I didn’t.”
He absolutely believes you need a REAL Christmas tree.
He points at pictures online like he’s choosing a tactical weapon.
“This one. Seven feet. Full. Real. Smells like winter.”
“It also comes with bugs, Caleb.”
“…We can… vacuum them?”
“Vacuum a tree?”
“…I’ll handle it.”
You buy the plastic one anyway. Caleb sulks dramatically.
He stands over the box like he’s staring at a fallen comrade.
“It has no soul, pipsqueak.”
“It doesn’t have insects either.”
“…Coward.”
You make him open the tree box because his arms are stronger.
He tears it open in one motion like he’s fighting someone.
“Aggressive much?”
“It disrespected me by being taped.”
When the fake tree unfolds weirdly, Caleb stares like it offended him.
He pokes a branch.
“…It’s… shiny.”
“That’s glitter.”
“…Disgusting.”
You fluff the branches. Caleb tries… and fails.
He fluffs one branch and immediately quits.
“I don’t fluff. I lead.”
“You’re fluffing today.”
“…This relationship is hard.”
He tries to put the star on top without a ladder.
You watch him stretch, bend, tilt, almost fall.
He refuses to admit defeat.
“…Caleb. Use the chair.”
“No. I won’t be defeated by a fake tree.”
He eventually uses the chair.
Lights are a whole war.
He tangles them in 8 seconds.
“…This is sabotage.”
“You caused that.”
“I’m being targeted.”
You end up untangling them while he stands behind you, holding your waist “for safety.”
Caleb insists on “strategic light placement.”
He turns into an engineer.
“Lights must go clockwise for optimal glow.”
“You’re acting like it’s a military base.”
“…Everything can be improved with order.”
You hang ornaments normally. Caleb arranges them in perfect symmetry.
You put a cute snowman on the left.
Caleb moves it exactly 4 inches right.
“…Stop adjusting my ornaments.”
“It was off by 2 degrees.”
You accidentally drop a bauble. Caleb gasps like you dropped a child.
“PIPSQUEAK—”
“It’s plastic.”
“…You scared me.”
He keeps stealing kisses whenever you reach high.
You go on your toes to place an ornament.
Caleb grabs your waist and kisses your cheek.
“Height makes you kissable.”
“Everything makes me kissable.”
“…Correct.”
You put a cute little ornament that looks like him.
He stares at it.
“…Why am I on the tree?”
“Because you decorate my life.”
“…I’m going to pretend that didn’t make my heart explode.”
Caleb complains you bought too many decorations.
But he carries all the bags inside, no problem.
“You said this was unnecessary.”
“It is.”
“…Then why are you carrying everything?”
“…Because if you drop something again, I’ll die.”
You make a Christmas gift list. Caleb is unhinged.
“What should we get your teammates?”
“A card.”
“What should be written?”
‘Enjoy your 3-dollar chips.’
“…Caleb, no.”
“…Why? It’s generous.”
You write proper gifts. Caleb tries to sabotage the list.
He adds:
– “One empty box.”
– “A single peanut.”
– “Air.”
“…Stop.”
“I’m helping.”
When decorating the mantle, Caleb keeps lifting you.
“I can reach!”
Caleb, already lifting you: “I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because I like holding you.”
He hangs the stockings in perfect height alignment.
He actually uses a measuring tape.
“…You’re insane.”
“It has to be symmetrical.”
You put mistletoe up. Caleb stops working immediately.
He walks under it.
Points upward.
Then to his mouth.
“…Pipsqueak. Educational purposes.”
He pretends he didn’t enjoy decorating.
But he keeps staring at the tree like it’s beautiful.
“You like it.”
“…..”
“Caleb—”
“…Okay, fine. It’s nice.”
At the end of the night, he pulls you close and whispers…
“…Next year, we’re getting the real tree.”
“No bugs.”
“…Fine. But I’m fluffing nothing.”
He kisses your temple.
“…Merry early Christmas, pipsqueak.”