Author’s Note: Camille Park is definitely my spirit animal … the girl loves the holidays, enjoys a good pun and she has excellent taste in Damien men. This is a little fluffy holiday fic that also documents a very special occasion for Damien and Cami.
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“A little to the left … no, too far!” Camille spouted out commands to her live-in boyfriend, eliciting a muffled groan of frustration from Damien as he adjusted the tree on its base in their tiny New York apartment living room. “Okay, steady … perfect!” Camille bounced up and down excitedly clapping her hands when Damien shifted the tree to just the right angle, centering it perfectly in the corner of their soon-to-be extremely festive room. “Ah, it looks great, D!” She sidled up against his side when he finally stood upright to observe his handiwork, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he admired the seven-foot fir tree he’d just lugged up three flights of stairs.
“Yeah, it doesn’t look half bad.” He released a long exhale of relief, thankful to finally have a moment to relax after their strenuous morning. Although it was still November, Camille always insisted on beginning their Christmas preparations on the Saturday following Thanksgiving. So the pair had woken up at 6am to drive to the Christmas tree lot just outside the city (thankfully making a pit stop at the coffee shop to get caffeine for the extremely groggy non-morning person Damien first), then spent over an hour marching up and down the rows of freshly delivered fir trees until Cami found the “perfect one.” After trekking back into the city with the tree fastened to the top of Damien’s car Griswold-family-style, carrying it up to their apartment (with little help from the petite Camille, but don’t tell her that!), then twenty minutes of situating the tree in their living room … well, it wasn’t even lunch time yet and Damien was already exhausted. While he thought Camille’s extreme affinity for the holiday season was adorable, he sometimes missed the days when he had been able to enjoy her holiday spirit as an observer and not a key contributor.
“Yes, it really does …” Camille beamed up at the lush green tree, a wide smile of childlike awe spread across her face, “just think how gorgeous it’s gonna look after you string the lights on it!”
“Yeah, I bet it will be- wait, what?!? After I string the lights?” Damien shook his head in dismay as he realized what Camille had just said. “Why am I stringing the lights?”
“Well I have to go bake the gingerbread to make the gingerbread house, so … “ Camille gave him a nonchalant look and a shrug, before jutting out a hip and tilting her head defiantly. “Unless you’d like to do the baking …” she asked in a mocking tone.
Damien grumbled again, his face falling into a scowl. “No … I’ll do it.” He let out a long sigh, turning to go retrieve the box of twinkling lights from the top shelf in their hall closet. He returned a few minutes later, arms filled with a worn cardboard box full of Christmas lights, to an empty room. The sounds of Camille clanking around in the kitchen signaled to him that he was officially on his own in this endeavor. He sighed before opening the box of lights, begrudgingly pulling out a tangled mass of wires and bulbs. “Cami?” He called to the kitchen, studying the jumbled mess with a frown. She poked her head around the corner as she tied an apron around her waist, eyebrows raised in question. “Check out this tangled mess! Do I really have to do the lights today? I mean, what’s the rush?” He dangled the ball of wires and chaos in her direction, making his most pathetic pleading face at her.
Camille grunted and stomped over to where her boyfriend was whining, grabbing the lights from him and quickly weaving them untangled with her tiny hands. After a few short minutes, she handed him back rows of neatly folded string lights with a satisfied look on her face, then cocked her hip and folded her arms across her chest. “Of course we need to do the lights today, Damien. You can’t half-ass Christmas! Now stop complaining and get to work so we can actually enjoy this, you curmudgeon!!!”
Damien’s eyes widened at his girlfriend’s playful outburst. “Sorry, a Kermit the wha???”
Cami chuckled, leaning forward while waggling a finger at him before poking him in the chest. “I said a curmudgeon! Cur-mudg-eon.” She repeated, exaggeratedly slow. “You know, a huge grump, a crusty old miser … like the Grinch. Do you want to be a grinch, D?” She quirked her brows at him, waiting for his reply with a coy smirk on her lips.
“Uhhhh …” Damien fumbled, dropping his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “No, I guess not.”
“Good.” Cami replied in a sing-song voice, a smug smile pulling at her lips. She raised up on her tip-toes and placed a single kiss to his cheek with a loud smack. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go finish this gingerbread while you work on the lights.” She turned on her heel and skipped back to the kitchen.
Damien watched as the bouncy blonde sashayed away, unable to fight the triumphant smirk tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. “Curmudgeon, indeed.” He mumbled with a low chuckle before turning back to the task at hand.
~~~
An hour and a half, two beers and a tuna fish sandwich later, Damien stood back to survey the glistening Christmas tree. Despite the rocky start, the time had surprisingly flown by quicker than he’d expected. It definitely helped that Cami had started busting out lyrics to her favorite Christmas tunes, singing along to the music and swaying to the rhythm as she stirred and rolled and then proceed to clean up her gingerbread. The beer helped too, but the occasional peek of his giddy holiday-loving girlfriend in the kitchen gave him a happy sense of pride in his work. Damn if that woman didn’t bring out the goofy side of him … and make him enjoy it along the way.
He heard the clatter of a pan and slamming of the oven door in the background before the soft footsteps approached. “Oh wow …” he heard Camille murmur as she came up behind him, tucking her arm into his as she stared at the tree. “Great job, Detective … are you ready to decorate now?”
Damien groaned audibly, glancing over his shoulder to the couch calling his name. “I’m guessing that can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Damien …” Camille’s voice dipped as she gave him a look. The look.
“Alright, alright … I kind of figured.” He exhaled a long sigh. “I went ahead and grabbed all the ornaments anyway, just in case.”
“See, you know the routine. But nice try anyway.” Camille gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a wink before she started digging through the boxes of ornaments sitting on the coffee table.
“You know, I think I’m gonna need another beer for this.” Damien tried to escape to the kitchen swiftly, but was caught by a hand on his forearm before he could make it.
“Absolutely not … I got us some egg nog. You can’t drink beer while you trim the Christmas tree.”
“But Cami-“ Damien started to argue.
“And I got you a big bottle of spiced rum to go with it.” Camille gave him a knowing grin.
Damien chuckled deep in his throat, nodding his head in assent. “Fine, deal … it’s almost like you know me or something.”
The pair worked together to hang all their ornaments, Camille continuing to sing along to the Christmas carols and both of them drinking several glasses of egg nog along the way. By the end of their decorating, they were both feeling the holiday spirit in more ways than one. After hanging the last ornament, Camille took a step back and nestled into Damien’s arms as they gave their finished product a once-over. She let out a breath slowly, her jaw opened wide in amazement. “D, it looks amazing!”
Damien grinned proudly as he glanced over to her beside him, his heart warming at the sight of her eyes sparkling as they reflected the lights. “Yeah … not bad if I do say so myself. But I think we can do better.”
Cami furrowed her brow in confusion and looked over to him. “What? What are you talking about? It looks great.”
He gave her an amused look, gesturing towards the top of the tree, bare and unadorned. “You forgot the best part, didn’t you?”
Her mouth formed a tight “O” as it dawned on her. “Of course, the star! Will you help me put it on?” She scurried over to the last remaining box, Damien’s eyes following intently as she delicately unwrapped the layers of tissue paper. When she reached the last layer and tugged it away, delving her hand into the box- “Hhh!” she gasped, tugging her hand away quickly as if frightened. She stood still for a moment, her gaze never leaving the contents hidden in the shadows of the box. Finally, she dipped her hand back in and curled her fingers around the tiny blue velvet box, holding it precariously in the palm of her hand as she swiveled to face him. “Damien?” Her eyes, filled with hope and shock and a joy unlike anything he’d ever seen before, flitted upwards to meet his.
Damien stepped forward nervously, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He had pictured this moment so many times in his mind, never a doubt in his mind since the first moment his lips had met hers almost two years ago … but now that it was here, now that it was actually happening, it was more intense than he could have imagined. “I hope you like it.” That was all he could think to say as he reached into her hand to grip the small box, prying open the lid to expose a modest engagement ring.
Camille didn’t respond, just exhaled softly while she processed the gravity of this moment. She studied the ring, a simple princess cut solitaire on a white gold band embedded with tiny diamonds along the sides … perfectly classic, perfectly her, perfectly them. “Damien, I … I …” she shook her head, trying to focus her fleeting thoughts until one obscure thought nestled into her conscious mind. “But, you were being such a grump today?” She asked quizzically, still unsure how this day had taken such a turn.
Damien’s head fell back as he laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that made Camille giggle in return. “Yes, well … I had to keep you on your toes, you know. I wanted this to be a surprise.” He grinned wide, relieved to see a relaxed smile on her face.
“You definitely surprised me!” She chuckled, nudging him roughly on the shoulder. “And here I was giving you shit about being a curmudgeon!”
Damien caught her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her lower back. “Well I guess now you’ll just have to call me Curmudgeon Claus …” he smirked and dipped his head, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. Camille snaked one hand around his neck, lacing her fingers in his hair as the other one held tightly to the blue velvet box nestled between them.
Damien stopped mid-kiss, arching his neck to peer down at her face. “So was that a yes?”
Camille giggled happily, pulling him down to press his forehead against hers, her eyes closed as she basked in the beauty of this moment. “I don’t think I ever heard a question.”
Damien guffawed, stepping back with an embarrassed smile on his face as he ran his hand across his jaw. “Right, you’re right.” He reached down to grasp the box from her hand, retrieving the ring between his thumb and index finger before tucking the box in his pocket. He stepped forward and held the ring directly in front of her face, ducking his head to gaze into her eyes and tracing her cheekbone softly with the thumb of his other hand. “Camille Park, I never in a million years thought I’d be lucky enough to find one person I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. But when I met you, I knew I had met my match and I never wanted to let you go. Will you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
Camille placed her hand on top of his, nuzzling her face against the palm of his hand as the happy tears began welling in her eyes. “Damien Nazario, there is nothing in this world that would make me happier than being your wife.” She let out a gleeful sob and felt the tears begin falling down her cheeks as Damien released a relieved laugh. They both watched in awe as he slid the ring onto her left hand, beaming at each other before he reached down to wrap his arms tightly around her in a warm embrace. He picked her up and twirled her around, the joyous sound of their laughter mingling with the chords of “White Christmas” playing in the background.
When he finally set her down, after tucking a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and gently pressing his lips to her temple, he leaned back to observe her basking in the afterglow. “So what now?”
Camille shrugged, her light eyes dancing with glee. “I don’t know, honestly. I’m sure we’ll figure it out. But for now … “ she nodded towards the empty treetop, “I think you owe me a star and a boost.”
“Yes ma’am.” Damien said with a wink. It may still only be November, but this was already the best Christmas ever.
END
