It was the first snowfall of the year. In the street far below cars skidded on the freshly fallen surface, laughter of children drifted through the air and the sound of a church bell could be heard calling in the distance.
Breathing in the fresh scent of snowfall, cold tickling his lungs, he let his eyes drift shut as he revelled in the freedom. Soon he would have to leave, return to the heated warmth of his friend's apartment, rejoin the family he held so close. For now though, this moment was his. The intricately webbed snowflake drifting down his arm, the cluster of white wonder that coated his crossed legs as he leaned back against the roof ledge. His own little piece of heaven to rejoice in.
He let his head fall back, gazing in wonder at the flurry softly floating downwards to join the newly woven blanket. Soon he would leave. But not now. Not yet.
A joyous cry soared through the air as a young pair of children below discovered the thrill of their first snowball fight and his mouth twitched upwards in a grin. Scooping his own handful of snowy crystals he leisurely pushed himself to his feet. He wondered which of his brothers he would spy first. Moulding the snow into a useful projectile as he began the journey back to April's apartment he began planning his preliminary tactics for the inevitable snowball fight of his own. No way was he letting Michaelangelo win another round.