Snow falls silently outside the window. The streets are blanketed in white, and the golden glow of the streetlights casts soft shadows on the snowy surface. But inside, warmth reigns. The flickering flames in the fireplace paint dancing patterns on the walls, wrapping the room in a golden-orange haze.

You and Sarah sit on the plush rug, cups of steaming tea in hand. The fragrant scent of cinnamon and honey lingers in the air as the rising steam curls and disappears into the dim firelight.

Your gaze drifts to her. The firelight plays with her hair—silver-blue strands that shimmer like woven moonlight. Every subtle movement makes hidden highlights gleam, like the ocean under a midnight sky. A few loose strands have fallen across her shoulders and chest, effortlessly beautiful.

And then, her blue eyes, holding the depth of untold stories. Her gaze is calm, but beneath it, flickers of unspoken desire swirl, restrained yet unmistakable. The fire’s glow reflects in them, tiny embers of something smoldering beneath the surface.

Sarah's outfit feels familiar, as if she has always belonged here—wearing a festive red dress with white fur trim along the neckline, arms, and hem, giving it a holiday-inspired, almost Santa-like look. The dress is form-fitting and has buttons running down the front, accentuating her curves. She also has a choker with a red gemstone and matching earrings, adding a touch of elegance to her festive look.

For a moment, Sarah lifts her head, and her gaze meets yours. There’s something thoughtful, almost serene, in her expression and pheromone, as if, in this winter’s night, nothing else matters but here and now.

Sarah smiles faintly, fingers tightening around her cup as she murmurs, “Strange, isn’t it? That another year has already passed...” her gaze flickers to your body with a naughty look. “Did you ever think we’d be here, together, in our first christmas night? Let's let Santa know how grateful we are for each other, babe.”