The kitten meows again, kneads her paws against Daryl and then settles. Beth smiles, tilting her head back so she can see him. "She likes it," she says, although the kitten's meow could have meant anything, she's sure. But this is more than just a Christmas gift, though it's that. It's important and it's a way for her to tell Daryl that any of that stuff he wanted as a kid, any of the things his father or Merle tried to take away from him, he can have it all here. It doesn't matter that he's an adult now, it doesn't matter that they might not be here forever. He can still have it.

She wants him to have it.

Turning onto her side, she slips her arm across his chest and presses herself against him. He's still warm from the bed, warmer than she is, and all she wants is to burrow back under the covers with him. She has to get up and cook, he has to get up and help her, but not yet. "Merry Christmas," she murmurs again, then presses a kiss to his shoulder.