Augustus grinned, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. "Hazel Grace," he greeted. Hazel smiled, climbing out of her mother's car.
She approached him and replied, "Augustus Waters."
Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster followed their daughter out into the frigid December air and exchanged greetings with Augustus. "I'm so happy you could come with us, Gus," Mrs. Lancaster told her daughter's boyfriend. He intertwined his fingers with Hazel's, his smile growing softer and warmer. Mr. Lancaster gave the couple a concerned glance and placed his hands gently on his wife's shoulders.
"How about you two go out and pick a Christmas tree and we," Gesturing to Mrs. Lancaster, "Will go pay." Pecking Mrs. Lancaster's cheek, he steered his wife towards the quaint, ancient log cabin sitting invitingly several yards away in the pale snow. Augustus gently released Hazel's hand, and her skin tingled under her fuzzy azure gloves.
He offered her his elbow, bowing slightly, "Shall we find ourselves a Christmas tree, Miss Lancaster?" His eyebrows arched flirtatiously.
Placing her hand on Augustus's, Hazel grinned, "We shall, Mr. Waters." They walked in the direction of a wooded lot composed completely of pine trees. Soft snowflakes fell from the gray sky, adding onto the foot and a half that had already amassed. The pair's boots crunched under them as they talked and bantered on their way to finding the perfect tree. Somewhere along the way Hazel and Augustus stopped. They stood, bundled up and looking as if they belonged on a Christmas card (minus the oxygen tank and prosthetic leg). Hazel glanced around among the picturesque pines until she spotted it. Pointing, she said, "There!" Augustus grinned down at her, his clear blue eyes shimmering like the snow. He placed a gentle kiss on her on the cheek, just above where the cannula laid. Smiling, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to her selected tree.
"It's beautiful, Hazel Grace," Augustus told her without looking up. Shaking her head lightly, she snatched the cigarette that still dangled in between his chapped yet still gently soft lips.
"You usually have to look at something to determine whether or not it is beautiful." Hazel stuck Gus's cigarette in between her own lips, careful to hold the place where his mouth had left a little damp, warm ring.
Augustus fiddled with a lock of Hazel's short auburn hair and said, "Not the tree. This. The snow, the cold, the sky. And you. Especially you, Hazel Grace." He paused for a moment and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, which were slightly blue from the cold. Augustus glanced at the tree. It was massive, its lush evergreen arms reaching out to catch the delicate snowflakes in their pine needle fingers. Augustus could practically see shiny, metallic ornaments sparkling on the pine's branches. The tree was nearly perfect.
"No," Gus said, shaking his head. Placing one hand on Hazel's shoulder and the other on Phillip's handle, Augustus spun her around until they faced a different tree, and Hazel almost laughed. The Christmas tree was sad. Not even like, droopy branches, browning pine needles, weak limbed sad. Like full out, falling apart, Charlie Brown Christmas tree sad. Stealing back his cigarette, Gus grinned, "The metaphorical resonance of this little tree is endless."
Hazel nods, reaching for his hand, "I think that we may have found our tree." Spontaneously, Gus wrapped his arm around Hazel and leapt backwards into a huge snow drift. Hazel laughed and hurriedly steadied Phillip, which was about to topple onto them. She leaned into Augustus, their thick coats and scarves making it even more difficult for Hazel to embrace him. Gus wrapped his arms around Hazel and they kissed, both of them grinning giddily. Suddenly, an explosion of snow hit Augustus and he hurriedly pulled away from Hazel. He looked slightly stunned, which was unusual of him.
"Hazel Grace, did you just throw a snowball at me?"
"Did I?" Hazel smirked, "I hadn't noticed." Gus leapt to his feet, pulling Hazel along with him. Augustus hoisted up a massive snowball and chucked it at Hazel. She dodged it with a shriek. Before either of them knew what was happening, they both collapsed into heaps of endless laughter. There they stood, cracking up amongst Christmas trees and eternal pale snow. They were a beacon of light. They were beautiful.
"Hazel?" Mrs. Lancaster's voice rung out in a question. Seeing her daughter and Gus she smiled, "I thought you two were going to pick out a tree." Mr. Lancaster emerged from the trees.
Managing to compose his pretentious manner, Gus ran his gloved fingers through his snow-filled hair. "Ah, but we did, Mrs. Lancaster." He gestured towards their pathetic, metaphorically golden Christmas tree. Hazel still laughed in the background.
Mr. Lancaster shook his head slightly in confusion, as if he didn't quite believe what he saw, "Are… Are you sure you guys want this one?" Hazel's father gently lifted one of the tree's many wilting branches.
"The metaphorical resonance of this little tree is endless," Hazel explained.
Laughing, Mrs. Lancaster replied, "Okay. We'll get this one then." Mr. Lancaster began to hack away at their selected evergreen. Turning to her daughter, Mrs. Lancaster said, "Hazel, sweetie, you should probably go change your oxygen tank. It'll be getting low by now. Gus, would you please go with her? Thanks." Though they all knew full well that Hazel could change her own oxygen tank, Augustus walked back to the car hand in hand with her. When they finally reached the Lancaster's Honda Civic, (A/N Sorry, I forgot what car they have ) Augustus placed his hand gently on Hazel's cheek, which was flushed from the cold. Hazel caught it in her clutches and tugged the glove off of his hand, revealing frigidly pale fingers. She pressed them to her lips, sending pulses of electric warmth throughout her whole body.
"Merry Christmas, Augustus Waters."
"And the same to you, Hazel Grace,"
Gus paused and smiled lightly, "Okay?" "
Okay," Hazel replied.
Augustus Waters opened the car door with a flourish, waiting for Hazel to climb in. When she did, he slammed the door shut, gently placing an unlit cigarette between his lips as the Lancasters drove into the snow-coated wonderland of Indiana Christmas.