Massachusetts feels the freezing rain, cold winds, and the gloom of the dark October sky. She's cold and freezing; her people were unprepared for the snow that formed when the temperature dropped during the rainstorm. She walks around the streets of Boston, she sees and feels her people's pain. After the dark and rainy summer, she'd hoped to have a long cool crisp fall; hoped that the first snow wouldn't come until Thanksgiving. But no, a Nor'easter hits midway through October, and it's an early winter in New England. Massachusetts walks home in the snow, coat drenched from the rain. Her hands and feet are numb, so cold she can't feel anything but nothingness where they should be. She makes it to her apartment building, but her hands are too cold to hold the keys properly, and the last thing she remembers is watching the snow above her as she falls to the pavement.
When Massachusetts wakes up she is warm. The second thing she notices is that she's in her bed and she's not alone. She cuddles closer to the warmth of the other person, and drifts back into unconsciousness.
The next time Massachusetts wakes up the other body in her bed is gone, but the space it left behind is warm and she relishes the heat. Massachusetts feels better now, the weather is still cold and wet, but it is no longer unexpected, and she is dry and warm.
She hears her apartment door open and closes her eyes in pleasure as the smell of fresh Dunkin Donuts coffee wafts into the room.
"Oh, I didn't know you were up."
Massachusetts' eyes snap open in shock as New York accompanies the smell of coffee into the room.
"You were the one that kept me warm."
"Yes."
"Why? And why were you here anyway?"
"Well, I came to express my sorrow that I wouldn't be seeing you in the ALCS this year."
"You came to gloat."
New York ignored that in favor of responding to the second question. "Massachusetts, if you weren't around to bother me, to challenge me at sports, to be the insufferably rude person you are, life would get incredibly boring." He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, before leaving the coffee on her bedside table and walking toward the door. He couldn't resist one last parting shot: "You know, that Red Sox underwear of yours is a bit dated, Damon plays for me now."
Massachusetts blushed scarlet. "Ya f***in' Yankee!" she shouted after him, "We'll just see who wins the division next year!!"
Thank you for reading this rather silly bit of nonsense, in response to the Nor'easter that is hitting New England right now (nowhere near as bad as I made it in the story, but extremely cold for those of us who were just getting used to the 50 degree weather) and the Red Sox being eliminated from the playoffs. Anyway this is #96 of my 100 themes challenge, In the Storm.
