Under the Holly
Summary: It may not be mistletoe, but you still get your kiss anyways
Relationship: Terzo/GN!Reader
Rating: General Audiences (this was supposed to be spicy, instead it's just sweet)
Word count: 1k
Read on AO3 here
or in full below the cut
"That's not mistletoe," you sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger as you will away the headache trying to form. This is a Satanic clergy, why in His name were you decorating for Christmas?
"Sure it is," the ghoul holding an armful of plant matter assures you.
"It's not," you counter.
"It is."
"It's—" you stop yourself and raise your head to pin them with a stare. "Why are you so sure it is?"
"It's got berries. Papa Primo said it'd have berries."
"And did Papa Primo tell you what color those berries would be?"
"White!"
"And what color are those berries?"
"Uh," the ghoul stutters, dropping their attention to the plants in their arms. "White?"
"They're red."
Their head whips up. Surprise, and you'll be damned if you don't think it's genuine, widens their eyes. "Red?"
"Yes," you confirm. "Very."
"Oh, I see." They deflate, and you feel the anger you were harboring for them slip from you in the process.
"Just put it on the table," you say, doing your best to soften your tone. "It's not mistletoe, but holly is still festive. I'll find something to do with it."
"Alright," the ghoul says, dejectedly doing as you command.
"Thank you for trying," you force out. "And perhaps you should consider getting your eyes checked."
They nod their head and turn to trudge out of the room. You bite your lip to stop you from calling out and trying to make things better. You aren't honestly sure you could manage that, given that you're stewing over having another task added to your already long decorating list. You would need to find mistletoe yourself, otherwise you would never hear the end of it—not in this clergy.
You clench your jaw, but then force yourself to release it. As much as you want to give up and return to your real tasks, the request to decorate for Christmas had come from the upper echelons. You had better keep on. You gather a couple of sprigs of the holly, careful of the prickly leaves, and then head towards the ladder still set up from where you had just been hanging lights. It will look festive, it will be fine, you assure yourself as you climb the ladder and set to work.
"Bellissima!" a voice calls, startling you. You drop the holly from one hand and grip the ladder as it shakes under you. Slowly, you turn your head to watch Papa Terzo walk into the room, face alight as he takes in your progress. "This, this is Christmas spirit, no?"
"Uh, yes," you agree, pieces clicking into place in your brain. You had been so ready to be angry at whoever ordered this, but you could never be angry at Papa Terzo. Now eager to be off the ladder, you turn to back to your work and listen as Terzo's footsteps grow closer.
"Ah, and all this mistletoe," you hear him purr from near your hip, "the siblings will have such fun with it."
"This isn't mistletoe," you point out, bracing yourself as you pause to look down at him.
"It's not?" he asks, eyes twinkling just as you'd expected, and your heart flutters in response. For as much as you tried to prepare yourself, you knew you're no match for those eyes.
"It's not," you say and force yourself to turn back to the sprig you had been working on. You finish securing it, then carefully start down the ladder. "It's holly."
"Holly jolly?"
"Mm," you agree, finding your footing on solid ground again. You turn to get the next sprig and continue your work, but Terzo's question freezes you in the spot.
"Does that mean I can't kiss you under it then?"
Your breath leaves you in a gust and you feel your brain scrambling for purchase. Sure, you'd thought about kissing the devilishly handsome Papa before…but did that mean he'd thought about kissing you too? Or was he just flirting; looking for some banter and a quick conquest?
Did you really care?
"It means you don't have to," you finally say carefully. You allow your eyes to shift back to his, and again fall under their spell. The playfulness is there, but there's also something else you can't quite name.
"You never have to kiss anyone," Terzo says, sincerity dripping from his tone. He take a step closer, and you grip the ladder tighter in response. "The mistletoe just gives us, eh, an excuse to act on our impulses."
You lick your suddenly dry lips, and Terzo's eyes dart down to watch the motion. "And you impulsively want to kiss me?"
"No."
"Oh," you say, straightening up and shaking your head. That hurt, but then you had been a fool to think that a Papa wanted you. "Right. Well, I'm going to get mistletoe later, but I'm sure you can still kiss—"
Terzo's hand wraps over yours where you're still gripping the ladder. The leather of his glove is soft against your skin, and warm from his own heat. "I meant only that it wasn't an impulsive desire. It's a desire I've had for quite some time."
"What?" you whisper, thoughts slow to catch up. You can't quite pull you attention from where his hand envelops yours until his other hand comes to pinch your chin, the prick of the nail on his glove assuring you that you haven't fallen off the ladder and into a dream.
"I've wanted to kiss you for quite some time," he continues, eyes meeting your own so you can see the truth there. "It's why I asked for you to have this task. I hoped I might find you under the mistletoe and have my chance."
"You didn't need the mistletoe," you confess. "You could have kissed me whenever you wanted."
"Does that mean I can kiss you now?"
"Please," you breathe, and then his lips are there to steal your next breath.