Danilo
He was standing behind me.
I didn't turn around right away. I couldn't. My hands were still on the top branch of the tree, adjusting it so it stood straight, pine sap sticky on my gloves, my heart beating so loud I was sure he could hear it over the crackle of the fire.
"Do you need help?"
That voice. Sleep-rough, soft and a little amused, like he wasn't quite sure if what he was seeing was real.
I finally turned.
Kolli was standing at the top of the stairs that led down into the living room. Barefoot. Hair a mess. Wearing one of those big, ugly, beautiful Christmas sweaters that I had surprised him with on our first Christmas together, red with little white snowflakes on it, stretched tight over his stomach.
