Disclaimer: I own nothing, and only borrowed the characters for a little while.
Andrew entered the bedroom. Picking up an old, frayed book on the bed,
he grinned.
Turning when Margaret left the bathroom, toiletries in hand, he held
it up. "Wuthering Heights, hey?"
She dumped her things on the bedspread and snatched it off him. "I
told you I read it every Christmas."
Andrew took a seat, raising his hand in surrender. "I'm just saying."
Watching his fiancee pack, he smirked, but said nothing. Margaret
spotted his look and huffed, planting a hand on her hip. "What?"
He grinned. "It's Christmas in Alaska babe. It's going to be snowing."
"I know that," she said with a roll of her eyes. "That's why I'm
packing long johns and cardigans."
"Trust me," said Andrew. "You're going to need a lot more than that."
Margaret discovered the truth to his words when, stepping off the
Sitka Skyways plane, the wind pummelled her.
Struggling to keep her balance, she was propelled back into Andrew.
His hands balanced her, though she knew he was laughing. "Not a word,"
she gritted, though the effect was lost by her chattering teeth.
He took her straight to Paxton Winterwear.
Finito.