For the Climate Control Challenge on the Ministry of Magic Discord.
"You look cold."
"It is cold." Ichigo frowned as she unwound the scarf from her neck and stepped into the cottage. "It is cold. Haven't you seen the snow?"
And so, for the first time that morning, Makoto looked up from the kitchen counter and saw that Ichigo was correct. Outside, a flurry of snow was covering the garden grasses. All of a sudden, her thick scarf and pom-pom hat, both so over-sized that they practically covered her face, did not seem such a ridiculous sight.
"Ah." Makoto's cheeks felt hot. "I didn't notice."
Ichigo laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist. As his hands found hers, he winced. This only made her laugh harder and, finding great amusement in his discomfort, she immediately began to press her icy hands on any bare skin she could find.
"Stop! Stop!" Makoto yelped, pushing her away from him. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and directed her to the kitchen table. "Sit. Let me finish up what I was working on. All right?"
Ichigo was more than happy to perch on one of the seats as Makoto returned to his project in the kitchen. Her chatter, however, did not stop. With Hanabusa and Andou visiting in the coming weekend, there was plenty of food to prepare. She was pondering which desserts would be best to counter such cold weather when Makoto pressed a hot mug into her hands.
"Ah!" Ichigo gave a delighted squeal. Then, as the steam wafted into the air, she gave a deep sigh. "It smells wonderful."
As the mug's rim reached Ichigo's lips, Makoto found himself holding his breath. His confidence in his skills remained unshaken, but his heart continued to flutter when it was Ichigo trying one of his creations. And although he tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew it was affection for her (rather than his awe of her palate) that made him crave her approval.
"Did you add ginger?" Ichigo asked, bright-eyed. "It's perfect." She pushed her mug towards him.. "You have to have some too."
Makoto shook his head. "It's for you. To warm you up."
"Really?" It might have been a question, but Ichigo had already pulled the mug back and was taking a second sip. "Can you make some for this weekend? With the cold…" She trailed off, her mind already whirring with ideas of what she could make that might complement the beverage. She beamed at him. "Your hot chocolate really is the best, Makoto."
He flushed. "It's just hot chocolate, Ichigo. Nothing special."
Ichigo immediately protested, and Makoto smiled. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps this moment—Ichigo drinking his hot chocolate with such joy—was something quite special after all.