Thomas Sangster imagines!

Fourteen - Noel

Hey my lovelies!! Please read the A/N at the end? <3

 

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“This thing is so dusty! You’d think it’s been up there a million years.” Turning around, I Immediately smile as I see my husband, Thomas, pulling out the old and slightly damaged box holding our Christmas tree. He’s wearing a cutely-ugly Christmas sweater, and a smile as he folds the stairs back up for our attic, and places the box down in our living room.

“Lets get decorating then!” I exclaim, and he giggles, clapping his hands a little and crossing the room, over to where I was standing. He leans down, and kisses the top of my head, putting his arm around my side, seeing as holding me from the front is a little bit difficult right now.

“I’ll get the decorations from the spare room. Don’t get the tree out yet, wait for me!” he calls, walking out of the room and down the hallway, out of site. Taking a seat on our cozy couch, I place my hands on my large stomach, rubbing it slowly.

“Hey there little one, are you excited for Christmas? Daddy and I are going to put up the pretty Christmas tree, so Santa can visit us. I promise we’ll leave it up so you can see it.” I whisper to the large bump, my little baby girl stirring slightly. I smile, leaving my hand to rest on my belly. It’s Thomas and I’s first child, and I’m so excited, and nervous. She’s due on the 30th of December, and we’ve been rushing around getting everything ready for her arrival. It’s the first of December, and the excitement of the close approach of our baby and Christmas is building.

Thomas comes back into the room, carrying a large red box full of Christmas lights, decorations and everything we need to officially turn our little house into a festive Christmas wonderland, like we do every year since we moved in.

He turns to me, and I smile up at him, appreciating the beautiful man I’ve married, and have been blessed with. I could not think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with, and I know that when we’re old and our child-or children- are all grown, we’ll still be dancing around this living room at Christmas, to all the cheesy Christmas music I love so much, belting out the lyrics, and kissing under mistletoe.

Thomas helps me out of my spot on the couch, and we go over to the box of dis-assembled plastic Christmas tree bits. He puts his arm around my shoulder, and gives it a squeeze. “Let’s do this,” he says, looking down at me.

 “Let Christmas begin!” I shout, smiling widely and bumping him slightly.

*****

It’s now a week until Christmas, and Thomas and I are baking ginger bread men and women for a Christmas party we’re throwing with all our friends. Well, I’m baking cookies and Thomas is ‘testing the cookies’ just to make sure they’re perfect. He insisted on it. When all the baking is done and the cookies are cool, I call him over to help me ice and decorate the little people.

“Do you think she’ll look like me or you?” Thomas asked, looking up at me from his little ginger bread girl he was half way through icing.

“I think she’ll be a mix of both of us. Maybe she’ll have your eyes, and my hair, and maybe she’ll have your nose and my lips, we can never know.” I say, looking up at him after I finished my gingerbread man.

“I bet she’ll have cute little freckles on her nose.” Thomas says, smiling.

“Thomas, babies don’t have freckles!” I laugh, and he gives me an extremely puzzled look.