Her feelings on winter were many, a mixed up bundle of nostalgia and anger, noses pushed up to cold glass, fireplaces and empty rocking chairs, stories of Jack Frost and cold, empty rooms, filled with people but no souls. But it hadn't always been like that.

When Lucy had been small, snow was hot chocolate and snow-girls with Mama, who bundled up despite the cold to wrestle snowballs into snow boulders. It was bundling up to grunt and push and search frantically for an appropriate pair of sticks for arms and the last carrot, which Lucy no longer had to eat for dinner because it was being used as a nose. It was mittens and red noses and the occasional snowball fight when Papa wasn't busy with work.

In first grade, snow storms meant knitted scarves and no school. An extra day with Mama, even if she was too tired to play outside where the fun was. It was dragging her out by the arm, if only to the porch, to see the smaller snow-girl Lucy had made all by herself, and the snow-mama and papa, all holding hands. Hot tea and books and stories wrapped up in quilts in front of the fireplace. The woodsmoke tickled her nose, but it was worth it.

When she was younger, snow days were magical and wonderful and perfect. It was like living in a fairy tale, where she was the princess in a world where it rained diamonds and powdered sugar.

When her mother died, snow days were just cold.

Lucy was probably the only high schooler who hadn't been looking forward to the blizzard the entire week, planning out what to do and who to do it with. Instead, she was praying for the streets to be clear instead of the snow to stick. Snow days meant being stuck in the house, empty of everyone who counted, with the father who was tiring of her. Snow days meant being at home, instead of at school with the people who actually appreciated her presence for more than the connections it could get them.

When the E-mail came telling her that the roads were too icy for the busses to risk the trip to and from school, Lucy nearly sat down and cried.

Instead she finished her homework, chemistry, made sure the fridge was stalked up, it was, but they were out of chocolate, and went to sleep.

Thud.

Thud.

The sound of something repeatedly hitting her window was what woke her up, instead of her body being so saturated in sleep it couldn't take it anymore. That had been the plan.

At first, as Lucy rubbed sleep out of her eyes, she thought she had imagined the noise. Or maybe it was snow, falling off the roof or a tree. But, no, there it was again, and again, too constant to be anything not man-made. The thud of something soft on glass.

Lucy peeked at her alarm clock though squinted eyes. Nine-thirty. She had been hoping to sleep the day away. It would have been easier than dealing with her father. Maybe if she just ignored it, rolled over and went back to sleep…

Thud.

And there it was again. Standing up, wrapping the blankets around her in order to preserve warmth, Lucy trudged over to the window to yell at whatever idiot had woken her up.

Thud.

"Lucy!"

Wait. She knew that voice. It was much too early to be shouting, so of course it could only be one person. Lucy pushed the curtains aside, opening the window. There he was, wrapped up in a scarf, his usual mop of pink squashed underneath a ski cap. When he saw her, he looked up and waved.

"Lucy!" He grinned, dropping the snowball he was just winding up to toss. His aim was spectacular. "I knocked on the door, but your dad told me to scram."

"Natsu," Lucy called, teeth chattering already. Her room was warm, and her pajamas too light for even this amount of contact with the air. Her nose was already turning pink. "What do you want?"

He rolled his eyes. She swore she could see it, all the way from her second floor bedroom.

"It's a snow day," Natsu said, as if it was obvious. "That means snowball fights."

"And?"

"You can't have a snowball fight with one person." Natsu started making his way around the house to the side door. "Going through the back! Suppeto will let me in!"

"You should have gone there first, you moron!" Lucy called, grinning. She had barely changed before he came running up the stares, two at a time. She met him at the top. He was wearing that stupid smile of his, the one he got whenever he was doing something that he really loved. He grabbed her gloved hand in his own, already dragging her back down.

"Dad's making pancakes," he informed her, as they waved goodbye to Suppeto and staff, Natsu closing the door behind him. They half skipped, half ran towards his house, all of four blocks away. "And Wendy wouldn't eat 'em without you. We're going sledding later too." His cheeks flushed with excitement and the cold. "Ever been?"

Lucy smiled so hard; she could barely feel the cold. "No."

"That's alright." Natsu squeezed her hand. "I'll teach you."

She had never liked snow days so much.


Request: None. I just felt like doing this.