On The Uniqueness of Snowflakes

"All "Three Thousand Worlds

are summoned here together

by this falling snow

this snow that lightly covers

all Three Thousand Worlds and more"

Ryokan

There had been no snow for December. None to really speak of for January. But the air of February was clear and bitterly cold. Above, the moon was a frosted splash of silver, clouds reaching over to hide the pale face from view.

Francis felt happiness rising, starting from his toes, encasing his chest. And the happiness felt like warmth. He smiled as he looked over at the man beside him, at the moment, his lover. Maybe tomorrow, a tormentor.

"What are you grinning like that for, you stupid frog?" Arthur grumbled, casting him a sidelong glance as he pulled his hand made hat down to cover his ears. Around them, fluffy snowflakes drifted, swirling and dancing. They landed in his hair, dusting his coat with specks of white.

"Just enjoying your company, Mon Cheri." He answered wistfully, sending the Englishman a mysterious smile. His gloved fingers found Arthur's hand, restraining the chuckle at the mittens he was wearing. A little knitted face smiled at him, ears flopping, bunny rabbit mittens. Too cute. Arthur glared at him, but didn't snatch his hand away, content to let the peace be. For the moment.

" I don't know how you can enjoy anything in this cold." He answered instead, watching their entwined hands, the brown leather against the soft blue of the wool, the snowflakes dotting them. He noticed each shift of fingers, a thumb rubbing the back of his hand. Francis just smiled, face turning towards the inky black of the sky, street lamps highlighting his hair, making the snowflakes glisten.

Arthur was suddenly reminded that Francis was beautiful.

He turned away, hoping the Frenchman didn't notice his face grow a darker shade of red, even if it could be attributed to the cold. Instead he studied the houses they passed, regardless of how many times he'd seen them before. Francis glanced at him before holding out his free hand.

He studied the snowflakes that landed on his sleeve. Each was different. No two were the same. Much like he and Arthur. One moment, enemies, the next, friends, the moment after, lovers. And it didn't matter how many times they repeated the process, it was always different. No matter what they said to each other, what they fought over, what they did to each other, it was always different.

They were always changing. And no two moments were alike. Snowflakes.

Arthur chanced a peek at Francis, wondering why their pace had slowed. Blue eyes were steady, warm, smiling as he enjoyed the snow. With a sigh, Arthur marveled at how Francis always managed to look ridiculously sexy, even when he was behaving like a child.

"What are you thinking about over there, you twit? Or has your brain finally given out and you can't remember how to walk?" He was surprised when his response was clear, deep laughter, ringing out in the near silence.

"Ah, Mon Cher, you're so adorable." His lips were covered in a kiss, and his breath was stolen, chaste as the kiss was. "Like snowflakes." Arthur frowned, but didn't question what Francis meant, content to walk in the quiet night, hand in hand.

Owari