Day 19: Write about a snowflake.
It was just a tiny fleck, an intricately formed drop of water frozen somewhere high above, regardless, he couldn't keep his eyes of the single snowflake in Ziva's hair. Maybe it was the way the whiteness contrasted with her dark curls. Or how soft her hair looked and how intrusive the wet flake looked. Or maybe, he was simply imagining how cold the flake would feel compared to her thick mass of curls if he were to run his fingers through it.
Whatever the reason, he had been staring at it ever since it had lodged itself in his partner's hair while waiting in line for coffee. It had made him stop grumbling about the insanity of going outside—in the cold—to get coffee, when they could've gotten some from the break room.
She had endured his whining good-naturedly, promised him a chocolate chip cookie, and brushed a few snowflakes off his shoulder. That's when he had first spotted the snowflake in her hair.
When a gust of wind blew her hair in her face and she pushed it back, the tiny white speck of intrigue was gone, and he suddenly felt oddly disappointed.
Ziva turned to look at him. "You've been awfully quiet for the past few minutes." She squinted, then said jokingly, "Was it the promise of a cookie?"
Tony met her gaze, and briefly wondered whether she really hadn't noticed him staring at her all this time. He suppressed a chuckle; no, she knew. So he smiled, and said, "I don't want to end up on Santa's naughty list."
The smile that put a twinkle in her eyes made him feel like a kid on Christmas morning.
And then, with another gust of wind, the snowfall picked up. The few random flakes that had been falling since they walked outside towards the coffee cart, were now multiplying.
Tony couldn't help but grin as snowflakes sprinkled all over her hair. He reached for his phone and took three pictures; one where she was still blissfully unaware of what he was up to, staring in front of her with a soft smile; a second where she frowned at him, still smiling; and a third where she laughed, mouth wide and made a grab for his phone.
They were all keepers. They would help him through boring meetings and paperwork. And if he lay awake at night, they would soothe his worries and help him drift off to sleep.
"Should've worn my hat," she said.
"I disagree," he replied, and ran a hand through her hair, making her frown as one corner of her mouth curved upwards.
Reality felt so much better than his imagination.
A/N: I feel like I've used a variation of that last phrase before…oh well. There's a problem with the reviews again, so I can't reply to each one individually at the moment. So, thank you, every single one of you, for your feedback.
