A/N: I literally wrote this up on a whim while listening to Ed Sheeran. Hopefully it's decent and fits the monthly theme!

Till next time,

D.L.D


Snowflakes (December)

December. Freezing, frigid, frozen December.

Meliodas could relate to that month, the month where the white, sleeping death of nature settled in. He could relate to the frost that climbed over every surface, the darkness that clung to the sky and its days, and even the freezing temperatures that froze even the largest of lakes.

Yes, the demon prince was no stranger to winter and its qualms. He knew of its supposed origins, the stories of the other gods and the many plausible ways in which winter came to be. He knew of how it was rumoured to be made from the grief of Demeter; he knew of the tales that told of kidnapped maidens and supernatural forces interfering with the weather. Meliodas had gained all he wanted to know about the season, and through it had deduced that he quite liked it. He saw it as the perfect mirror to himself.

Meliodas saw winter as a season that reflected himself: cold, frosty and best when chilled. He saw it as the season of death, the season of darkness and the season of grief. Winter was a time that was painted to mourn in. White would bury the bright beauty of the world; darkness would obscure the warmth of the sun; and ice would kill the innocent sprouts that the world itself produced. Winter was ruthless. Winter was cruel. Winter was perfect.

It was never meant to be enjoyed or beautiful.

But then she came along.

Meliodas frowned, watching as the goddess twirled among the falling snow. Snowy wings stretched out behind her, balancing her form as she spun and giggled in the killer frost. Her skin had been reddened by the nipping cold, her silver hair dusted with the white flakes of ice, and yet she seemed to be fine. She was not screaming, complaining and wishing for the sun to return. She was smiling, beaming, laughing.

She looked like she was...happy.

But how?

Meliodas scowled, balling his fists as he turned away. He had thought that by the time winter had settled in, he'd be back to normal. He'd figured that the goddess had only made him soft due to her enhanced connection to the warmer seasons of the year. But it seemed he was wrong.

"Is something wrong, Meliodas?" The goddess raised a brow, pausing in her reveling. Big blue eyes blinked owlishly, the owner frowning a little as her gaze fixed on the demon. "I thought you liked winter?"

Meliodas blinks, attempting to maintain the plain expression he had mastered from more or less birth. It seems harder to maintain these days, especially around her, but somehow he manages to. He manages to seem as if he feels nothing, occasionally letting it slip.

But only occasionally.

"I do," He answers quietly, cautiously, not trusting himself to not scare her away. He was frustrated right now. Irritated. Things had not worked out how he had expected them to: winter had come; He was not changed. Winter was not meant to be beautiful; He was not meant to love her.

Yet he felt like some part of him did.

The goddess raised a brow at his words, skeptical. She waded through the freshly powdered snow, scattering tender snowdrifts with each graceful movement. Once before him, she crouched and scooped up a handful of snow. An innocent smile spread over her lips.

"Elizabeth..." Meliodas warned, eyeing the handful of snow. She was always her most mischievous when he looked dismayed.

"Lighten up a bit!" The goddess giggled. "It's winter!"

She then threw the handful into the air, watching as the delicate snow floated towards the ground. Each unique flake twirled in its own dance, some finding partners, but many dancing alone. They all graced the air with a beauty rain could never rival, gradually falling but never plummeting in a harsh and pressured race. No, instead they were sophisticated. Graceful. The snow fell like it was magical, unnatural, and it immediately captured the eyes of anyone nearby.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Clouds rose into the air as Elizabeth laughed, her rosy cheeks bright as snowflakes tangled and dusted her hair. They looked like gems, sparkling, dazzling gems. Her nose was a bright pink, turning pale red, and her blue eyes were bright.

"Yeah, it is..." The demon breathed, dumbstruck. His face feels warm and he quickly corrects himself. He is not meant to feel; he is meant to be frigid. "The snow, I mean."

Elizabeth coughs, averting her gaze from Meliodas as she gazes at the snow. Meliodas' own eyes drift to the pale flakes, admiring their graceful gliding, but subconsciously find themselves fixing on her smiling face.

A small smile sneaks onto his face.

Winter was beautiful; He was falling in love.