Snow
"I hate snow."
Those three simple words compelled her to grab him by the wrist, raving, and drag him against his will out into the frozen outdoors. Delicate snowflakes slowly floated down from the heavens, billions by billions, and as they shivered in the snow outside his home she explained how no two were the same. His teeth chattered and he pulled his coat tighter around him, wishing he'd decided against wearing sandals.
As he mentally berated himself, she knelt down, the bottom of her puffy pink coat soaked in the clouds' frozen tears, and brought back up with her a ball of snow. In her snugly gloved hands, she pressed it firm until it was solid, and her mischievous grin was the last thing he saw before it exploded in his face. Spluttering curses at her, he regrouped and copied her actions, his fingers burning from the snow's icy caress. His was poorly crafted and traveled only two feet before it fell apart in midair, landing unceremoniously at her feet. She stifled a laugh at his pathetic attempt.
With a grin she fell back in the snow suddenly and he had to resist the instinct to surge forward and catch her before she hit the ground. She spread her arms and kicked her legs and he stared, eyebrows raised. She paused, sat up, and with a surprising amount of force – though she was a farmer, after all – she yanked on his coat sleeve and sent him toppling down next to her. He opened his mouth to scold her, a growl caught in his throat but she pressed a finger to his lips and began her demonstration. She swung her arms and legs back and forth, sending snow dust soaring, and commanded him to do the same. He did and he felt ridiculously silly. This was a child's game, not something two grown adults should be doing, and he told her rightly so. She brushed his comment off and admonished that he could never be to old for fun. He didn't see what was so fun about freezing his butt off but he knew he couldn't win so he hushed himself and brooded, scowling at the monotonous gray sky until they finished.
When they did, he stood first, eager to get off the chilly ground, and offered her a hand. He pulled her up – my, she was light – and they stepped back to better admire their handiwork. Impressed in the snow were two angels. Hers was small and seemed to possess her daintiness, with perfectly curved wings and even the indent of her curled hair, and she bent down and drew a halo in the snow above her divine doppelganger's head. His snowy twin was not so marvelous. His lanky arms and legs combined with lax efforts left it lopsided and looking like the outline of the victim of a horrible accident. He had to laugh.
His pitiful excuse for a snow angel wasn't much to show for her training but she was pleased either way. As her way of showing thanks for his compliance, she threw her arms around him in an excited embrace. He was momentarily stunned, opening and closing his mouth, but then let himself return the hug, something like a smile on his soft features. They stood there, with snow falling around them, time frozen, and he felt right at home, more so than if he'd stayed inside. She pulled away, beaming, and he noticed the pink tinge of her cheeks, but attributed it to the chilly air.
The sun broke through the clouds just then, fiery orange as it set. She was clearly disappointed but when he offered to walk her home her smile came back full force. She laced her gloved fingers through his bare ones and he blinked down at her as she pulled him along, leading once again. They moved at a snail's pace, but he was fine with that. Maybe he didn't want it to end. Maybe he liked the feeling of her hand in his. Maybe he was hypothermic and losing his mind. He honestly wasn't sure.
No matter what it was, time stops for no man or woman, nor chef or farmer, and soon they were at her front door. She let go of his hand and wrung hers nervously in front of her like she was trying to make some important decision. Suddenly it all came together in his mind and before she had a chance he bent down and kissed her on the nose. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in utter disbelief and she blushed all shades of red. When he pulled back she lowered her head and stammered something about her cows, hiding her face in her hair. But he saw the smile. She was absolutely overjoyed and it was thanks to him. He felt lightheaded himself as ruffled her hair, promising they'd make a snowman tomorrow.
He then turned to leave but she called out his name, more like whispered it, and asked him to come inside for some hot cocoa. He had half a mind to ask her about the cows but decided against it and followed her into the warm embrace of her flower-scented, cozy little home.
He still wasn't too fond of the snow, but he supposed he could grow to like it.