It's maybe one in the morning when the snow starts falling; Killua, being Killua, is the first to notice it, and shakes Gon awake as quietly as possible so as not to wake Mito up. "Hey," he hisses – Gon stirs against his shoulder, blinking like he's not exactly sure where he is before jolting up into a sitting position.
"I wasn't sleeping!" he blurts, then covers his mouth. "Whoa, what time is it? Oh!" He's seen the snow, and leaps to his feet to go investigate the window. Killua follows close behind, rubbing at his eyes; he doesn't go all the way to the window, though, cause it's cold over there and he's seen it all before. "I wonder if it's gonna stick?" Gon muses, breath clearly fogging up the glass. Killua kind of sighs in response and collapses onto the couch, tired.
The reflection of the Christmas lights illuminates the space around Gon as he draws patterns in the fog on the window; Killua watches him idly, kicking up his legs and resting his chin on his arms. "You think it's gonna snow for Christmas?" he asks, and Gon hums in response, arm arcing out across the window in a graceful curve.
Pictures start to take shape under Gon's fingers, lazily spiraling outward into a smudgy blur of swirling patterns and faces that Killua thinks he half-recognizes. Strange, fantastic figures crowd the glass – a frighteningly thin man with a teardrop on one cheek, a young woman with seaweed hair and scales on her arms, someone wreathed in chains with their hands outstretched – next to drawings of Killua himself, leaning against Gon's shoulder, arms slung around people he's never seen before, smiling with his eyes fixed on the sky.
The window overflows with images, and if Killua just squints he could almost believe that the pictures are leaving the window, that they're stepping off of their canvas and coming to surround him-
Killua jolts awake as Gon presses icy cold fingers into his neck. "You were sleeping!" Gon teases, beaming as Killua takes a defensive swipe at him. "I asked you if you wanted to go outside."
"What, right now?" He's still a little cloudy from his dream – was it a dream? It must have been, because the window's just covered in streaky lines and swirls, and he knows for a fact that Gon can't draw. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of the last of the images, he grins back at Gon. "Let's go, what the hell are you waiting for?"
They burst out into the moonlit night without even bothering to put shoes on first; Gon laughs when he sees his breath puff out white, dancing in the snow in his excitement. Killua, still bathed in the glow of the lights from the house, stands and watches for just a second: sometimes it's nice, he thinks, to have such a reckless friend.
notes: here i am trying to get in the christmas spirit and fucking FINALS ARE DRAGGING ME DOWN (well, they were at the time i wrote this).
ah, well, some festive kids for you anyway. i wrote this one mostly to marina and the diamonds' cover of "have yourself a merry little christmas", if you're in the market for Mood Music to read this to.