(I'm taking French now, and I just started watching Yuri On Ice so, I figured, why not combine the two?)

"Ah!~ Viktor!" You swooned, while looking at the (painted) pink Christmas tree your fiancée, Viktor showed you. "C'est très mignon!" You picked up the tiny tree. "I want this one!" You smiled while trying to find the price tag. "We're going to need lights, and a star for the top, and-"
Viktor interrupted you with a nervous face. "Uh, (Y/n) love," he looked at the fake tree you cradled in your arms. "Maybe we don't have to get that one? M-Maybe we could pick a...real...one...?" He laughed nervously.
"What do you mean?" You paused. "Il semble réel..." You picked at one of the still-looking branches. You scoffed. "Even if it is not real, I still think it looks cute, and I want it."
       "(Y/n)? Why would you want something that isn't real? Isn't the joy of Christmas something, you know, real?" He tried to persuade you not to get the tree. But, you wanted it! It looked pretty! If it didn't seem pretty to him, we could put lights and ornaments on it...
        "Come, on, Viktor! I want it!" You pouted. "It's cute!" He still didn't believe you. "It's cuter than you." You snickered and put your hand over your mouth. That got to him. His face turned bright red. But not with embarrassment, no,
         His face was red with anger.
         You really didn't understand why that, of all things got to him, but you didn't question it. Or rather, you didn't have time to. Right after those 4 words sprouted out of your mouth, he yelled for a "store helper".
         "Excuse me, Sir?" Viktor looked directly into the man's eyes. "Do you think this, clearly fake, tree is cute, like my soon-to-be wife, says?" He waited for a response.
           The poor worker, was a curly-haired gentleman in his late 20s. What Viktor did not know, is that worker just got done yelling over the phone at his, now, ex-girlfriend of 3 years. He was distraught. Now, hearing this hunk of a man talk about his "soon-to-be wife," just made his damn day worse. "Sure. Whatever, man." He said, sighing slowly.
           (Y/n), now relishing in her victory over Viktor, grabbed the tiny tree and strutted over to the lights and decorations section. Viktor, on the other hand, trudged over to where you were. (Y/n), noticing how sad Viktor was over his loss, (the first one he's had in a long while,) walked over to Viktor and gave him a kiss on the nose.
                 "Je t'aime, Viktor. Joyeux Noël."