“Well yes, you live in a frigid hellhole,” he snorts softly with amusement, “not that Hell is cold, mind you, but seeing your face? Well, that just makes the awful weather bearable.”

He’s…actually touched that Mattheiu has the foresight to warn him ahead of time, and the gratitude shows in way his smirk melts into a soft grin. The holidays, beyond the mindless consumerism and hedonism they inspired, have always been a bit of a sore spot for him but his reaper’s constant support throughout has helped temper things and make the season easier to stand. “No. No, no. It’s a joyous season, please don’t ‘tone it down’ for me.”

There’s actual sincerity in his tone, “I’m okay, I promise.”