mistletoe. bertholdt fubar

A plan bubbled in your mind as you looked back at the chair you were sat down on, and stood up. As you placed a hand on the back rest of the chair, you noted it was a little wobbly, unstable even. Could it be safe if you stood on it? Well as long as you won't move too much, you guessed it would be fine.

The legs of the chairs made scraping sounds as you pulled it near the tree. Giving it one last wobble, you flung both your feet in the flat surface, and started mending the tree.

Ah, this might not be your brightest idea yet, it's one of those brilliant ideas of yours that sent you tumbling down the floor bum first. You felt out of balanced, and your body weight was sent falling to the right side. You closed your eyes, bracing for the impact that resulted from your geniusness. You were surprised, however, that the said impact did not arrive, and you open your eyes to see the gentle giant. You were wrapped in his arms, as if you were gift, and he was the Christmas wrapper.

"Bertholdt!" You exclaimed, relieved that you did not have to endure the painful blow. "Thank you, really."

"Y-you're, uhm, welcome, [F/N]." He gave you a small smile and placed you on the ground, and as soon as your feet touched the wooden floor, you turned to the much taller male and asked him if he could lend you a hand. As he quietly agreed, you said an energetic thank you and handed him the things he needed to put on the upper portion of the tree. You were glad Bertholdt was there when you needed help.

As soon as the tree was finished, the two of you took steps backwards to observe your masterpiece, and lo, the two of you were quite proud of it. Little did you know, as you backed up to look at the end product of your hard work, you ended up standing right under the plant.

The feelong of unfamiliarity shook you to reality as he asked you if anything was wrong, bending down oh so slightly to wait for your response.

You were, once again, on your tiptoes, even if you were given averagely tall, you could not reach his lips well. A small, really swift peck landed on his lips, and he pulled almost right away, as red as a beet.

"Bend down a little further, Bertholdt. I can't kiss you under the mistletoe if I can't reach you." A soft chuckle left your lips as he grew even redder.

"I... uh... I-I..." He stuttered, absolutely nervous.

Eventually, he gave in and leaned down, giving you the ablilty to reach his lips. And as you lips touched once more, a little longer, you could feel the heat on his face.