A delicate, gloved hand was raised up to catch some of the falling snowflakes. With a small sigh escaping the man's lips, he opened his palm to catch more of them, then bringing the hand closer to him, gently blowing the snow away. At this time of the year, the snow was fascinating. The way it danced in the wind and fell on the asphalt, creating that thin layer of whiteness that was soon crushed by the people walking on it.
It was almost romantic.
But only almost.
If you wanted the year's first snow to be romantic, you needed someone to be there with you.
The gloved hands were soon tugged into the pockets of a cozy, warm jacket. The man buried his nose into the scarf he was wearing, keeping himself warm by breathing hot air into the scarf, letting it warm up his already red face.
It was too cold. Too cold to be alone.
The snow squeaked underneath the heavy winter boots he was wearing. He was wearing the warmest clothes he had, yet he was still feeling the coldness seep to his bones. Maybe it was because how he was feeling inside, how much coldness there was inside his heart.
"Stop thinking about him, Artie! He's not coming back!"
"Just let it go already, come on. Move on!"
"I'm sure he has someone else by now."
He let out an angry growl, kicking the snow on the ground in frustration. Who they were to tell him when to move on?
Without him even noticing anything, his gaze fixed on the already white ground, his feet took him into a park. There were only a few people there, children walking along the small paths of the park with their parents. It was beautiful in there, the leafless trees only starting to get their beautiful white cover. Everything seemed to be sparkling, the frosty snow making everything seem so magical.
He found himself sighing as he walked around the park, feeling so empty. He could see how beautiful and how magical it was, but he couldn't feel it. He had never been able to feel such things alone, he always needed someone to be there with him, to experience it with him.
He needed him to be there with him.
"Bloody idiot…", he muttered quietly to himself, cursing out loud a few times, causing the lady passing by with his two children to glare at him disapprovingly. But he didn't care, he couldn't bring himself to care. It had been very difficult to care about anything ever since he had left.
It had been his own fault, though, there was no one else to blame. It had been him who was never giving enough time for him, who was never affectionate. Never loving, kind or gentle. Never telling how much he honestly loved him.
Walking over to the bench that he knew was light brown, but was now covered in the snow, he reached his gloved hand to gently wipe it away. He grimaced lightly as he could feel the wetness soak through the glove, making him even colder than before. Well, what else could he have expected from such an old glove?
He sat down on the bench, though immediately regretted it. It was cold, it was as cold as everything around him. Too tired to get up, he let his eyes fall closed, listening to the sounds of the park. He could hear the faint sound of some cars driving by the park, he could hear the sound of someone walking in the snow. That was all, otherwise it was quiet.
He had always thought that silence was beautiful. That it was something you should cherish and appreciate. Now as the only sound in his apartment was what came from the radio, he knew that you should cherish the sound of another person. You should appreciate every kind and loving word someone ever says to you. And of course, you should appreciate that person who tells you those things. You should never take that person as granted, because someday, he or she may go away.
The frustration came back. Tugging his hands into his pockets again, he got up from the bench, continuing his walk through the lonely, quiet park. His head was hanging down, his thick brows furrowed into a thoughtful expression.
It was maybe the fact that he was completely lost in his miserable thoughts or the fact the other person wasn't looking in front of himself, but soon he bumped into something. Into someone. The icy path was slippery underneath his feet, and with a small squeak he felt himself fall backwards. Squeezing his eyes shut, he expected to soon feel his back hit the ground, but what he felt was far from that. There was no pain, just a warm pair of arms wrapping around his waist, keeping him from falling.
"As clumsy as ever, mon cher."
He opened his eyes, stumbling back to his feet, his face seeming to pale at the sight of the other one. It had been such a long time since he had last time seen the other. He had not been prepared to this.
"I… I…", he stuttered, the paleness soon being replaced with warm blush. His heart was beating faster, and the fact that the other wasn't loosening the grip on his waist wasn't really helping the situation.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm out, but failed. His cheeks burning with the bright red blush, he hid himself against the taller man, burying his face into his warm scarf, letting his eyes fall closed.
Even in the winter, he smelled like roses.
"I… I'm so sorry, I really am…", he managed to whisper, his words a bit muffled since he was talking into the man's scarf, his hands placed on his chest as he pressed against him trying to keep himself warm.
"I love you with all my heart… I wish I would have told it sooner."
It was quiet for a long moment. When the arms holding him wrapped tighter around him, and a soft pair of lips pressed against the top of his head, he knew he was forgiven.
"Come on, mon amour… Let's go to my home and I'll make some tea for you."
And as they walked through the park hand in hand, he could feel the emptiness inside his heart being filled.
He wasn't going to let Francis slip away from him.
Not ever again.
/It was snowing today when I woke up, and so I got the inspiration to write something about my favorite couple and the first snow of the year ^^