A few days before Christmas, Connor came home with a newly made grapevine wreath and some pine boughs, too, so he's made a definite contribution to decorating the house. Not to mention all his pre-Christmas baking has left the house smelling like cookies for a while. If he doesn't pull himself together enough to make a real breakfast, there's still cookies, and he's put oranges in her stocking because that's an old tradition. Plus Connor has a weakness for oranges.
He's wearing the pajamas, top unbuttoned, and the robe is laying on the couch where he was sitting until he heard her get up. Connor doesn't own slippers, but he seems to prefer going barefoot. That and occasional shirtlessness is all just part of the rumpled, careless package that is Connor. He's clean, but he'll wear his clothes until they're more holes than cloth if she lets him. "...So." He gestures at the tree and presents with his mug. "I'm following your lead."
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A few days before Christmas, Connor came home with a newly made grapevine wreath and some pine boughs, too, so he's made a definite contribution to decorating the house. Not to mention all his pre-Christmas baking has left the house smelling like cookies for a while. If he doesn't pull himself together enough to make a real breakfast, there's still cookies, and he's put oranges in her stocking because that's an old tradition. Plus Connor has a weakness for oranges.
He's wearing the pajamas, top unbuttoned, and the robe is laying on the couch where he was sitting until he heard her get up. Connor doesn't own slippers, but he seems to prefer going barefoot. That and occasional shirtlessness is all just part of the rumpled, careless package that is Connor. He's clean, but he'll wear his clothes until they're more holes than cloth if she lets him. "...So." He gestures at the tree and presents with his mug. "I'm following your lead."