Angeli della Neve
i.
On the morning of Colin's first snow day, he is awakened by a rapping on his window. Ephram's breath materializes in small puffs of steam, and his nose and cheeks are pink with cold. When Colin lets him in, snow packed in the grooves on the bottoms of his shoes leave white tracks on the dark blue carpet for a few steps.
"School's closed," Ephram tells Colin matter-of-factly. "There's six inches already on the ground and they're expecting at least another twenty inches, maybe more. Oh, and here." He tosses the comic that he keeps forgetting to bring to school onto Colin's bed. "Enjoy."
While Colin would be perfectly content mooching around in bed and devouring his new book, he can tell by the way Ephram keeps shifting his weight back and forth that he wants to do something a little more . active. "'s that it?" he asks.
"Yeah, I guess so." Ephram's tone contradicts his words, but Colin knows he won't be able to hold himself back much longer. Ephram goes back to the window, places his hand on the latch to unlock it, then turns around abruptly. "Have you ever made a snow angel?"
Colin shoots him a quizzical look. "Uh . no? What the hell's a snow angel?"
Ephram grins, a rare occurrence even around the one person in whose company he feels most at ease. "Get dressed and meet me around back and I'll show you."
Colin isn't sure if he obeys out of curiosity or a desire to see Ephram smile again.
ii.
"It's kind of ." Ephram trails off, searching for the right word to describe Colin's first attempt at a snow angel.
"Deformed?" Colin supplies, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"I was gonna say lopsided, but yeah, deformed works too." Ephram walks around the Colin-sized impression in the snow, surveying it with a critical eye. "I mean, it's not Michaelangelo, but it's not bad - for a beginner." Ephram emphasizes the last phrase, playfully disdainful.
"For a beginner?" Colin echoes. "Well let's see you do better then, huh? C'mon, if you're such an expert, show the beginner how it's done!"
Ephram protests, waving his hands and muttering about proper working conditions and needing inspiration, before relenting. He walks further into the backyard, locates a large enough patch of undisturbed snow that isn't interrupted by a tree, and drops down into the snow, his arms at his sides. Colin watches Ephram pump his arms and legs several times before getting up, careful to place his feet back into his tracks.
A smug expression on his face, Ephram returns to where Colin is standing. "Beat that," he challenges. Colin examines Ephram's creation and turns to give the other boy his opinion; he stops short when he sees the snow in Ephram's hair. Fragile snowflakes are caught in between the short strands, giving Ephram a halo of intricate ice crystals.
Colin swallows and extends a bare hand to touch the halo. Ephram's hair is soft and damp under his fingers, and Colin can feel the snowflakes melting against his skin. Ephram exhales, drawing Colin's attention to the small cloud that escapes into the space between them. Almost unaware of what he is doing, Colin dips his head down and closes that space, his hand cupping the back of Ephram's head.
Ephram seems caught off guard at first, but he returns the kiss enthusiastically. For a moment, their breath mingles. Colin thinks Ephram tastes like snow, crisp and pure. He is reluctant to pull away, but knows it's probably not a good idea to make out with Ephram in the backyard when his family is still home.
Colin smiles. The snow in Ephram's hair is gone, melted by the heat of his body. Ephram's cheeks, normally pale as a corpse, are flushed. All traces of an angelic façade have vanished, but Ephram doesn't seem dismayed by his sudden fall from grace.
i.
On the morning of Colin's first snow day, he is awakened by a rapping on his window. Ephram's breath materializes in small puffs of steam, and his nose and cheeks are pink with cold. When Colin lets him in, snow packed in the grooves on the bottoms of his shoes leave white tracks on the dark blue carpet for a few steps.
"School's closed," Ephram tells Colin matter-of-factly. "There's six inches already on the ground and they're expecting at least another twenty inches, maybe more. Oh, and here." He tosses the comic that he keeps forgetting to bring to school onto Colin's bed. "Enjoy."
While Colin would be perfectly content mooching around in bed and devouring his new book, he can tell by the way Ephram keeps shifting his weight back and forth that he wants to do something a little more . active. "'s that it?" he asks.
"Yeah, I guess so." Ephram's tone contradicts his words, but Colin knows he won't be able to hold himself back much longer. Ephram goes back to the window, places his hand on the latch to unlock it, then turns around abruptly. "Have you ever made a snow angel?"
Colin shoots him a quizzical look. "Uh . no? What the hell's a snow angel?"
Ephram grins, a rare occurrence even around the one person in whose company he feels most at ease. "Get dressed and meet me around back and I'll show you."
Colin isn't sure if he obeys out of curiosity or a desire to see Ephram smile again.
ii.
"It's kind of ." Ephram trails off, searching for the right word to describe Colin's first attempt at a snow angel.
"Deformed?" Colin supplies, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"I was gonna say lopsided, but yeah, deformed works too." Ephram walks around the Colin-sized impression in the snow, surveying it with a critical eye. "I mean, it's not Michaelangelo, but it's not bad - for a beginner." Ephram emphasizes the last phrase, playfully disdainful.
"For a beginner?" Colin echoes. "Well let's see you do better then, huh? C'mon, if you're such an expert, show the beginner how it's done!"
Ephram protests, waving his hands and muttering about proper working conditions and needing inspiration, before relenting. He walks further into the backyard, locates a large enough patch of undisturbed snow that isn't interrupted by a tree, and drops down into the snow, his arms at his sides. Colin watches Ephram pump his arms and legs several times before getting up, careful to place his feet back into his tracks.
A smug expression on his face, Ephram returns to where Colin is standing. "Beat that," he challenges. Colin examines Ephram's creation and turns to give the other boy his opinion; he stops short when he sees the snow in Ephram's hair. Fragile snowflakes are caught in between the short strands, giving Ephram a halo of intricate ice crystals.
Colin swallows and extends a bare hand to touch the halo. Ephram's hair is soft and damp under his fingers, and Colin can feel the snowflakes melting against his skin. Ephram exhales, drawing Colin's attention to the small cloud that escapes into the space between them. Almost unaware of what he is doing, Colin dips his head down and closes that space, his hand cupping the back of Ephram's head.
Ephram seems caught off guard at first, but he returns the kiss enthusiastically. For a moment, their breath mingles. Colin thinks Ephram tastes like snow, crisp and pure. He is reluctant to pull away, but knows it's probably not a good idea to make out with Ephram in the backyard when his family is still home.
Colin smiles. The snow in Ephram's hair is gone, melted by the heat of his body. Ephram's cheeks, normally pale as a corpse, are flushed. All traces of an angelic façade have vanished, but Ephram doesn't seem dismayed by his sudden fall from grace.