My Land, My Rules

"Yeah," said Gladio, the words muffled around both his grin and the barely chewed pastry puff, "there'd better be!"

And there was a small urge to complain about her doing all the work in getting their plates, but then he'd have to set her down if he was going to get his own, and there was no contest for what was going to win out there.

The next kiss was aimed for her neck, a spot where he knew he'd gotten giggles out of her before, though never with the rest of causing her to drop plates. He was clearly willing to take that risk.

"I love you, Nell," he told her. "And this has been a pretty great friggin' Christmas."

Not that he had a lot to compare it to, but that was beside the point.