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They watched the first video, Willow snuggled up with her head on Oz's shoulder, sharing a bowl of popcorn, their fingers meeting occasionally as they reached for a handful of kernels. Whenever that happened, they would share a smile, and a brief kiss.
It wasn't at all how she had imagined it. In her imagination, they had been in bed, naked, doing … things. But this was better. This felt more like her, like them. Tomorrow maybe her brain would get busy trying to find reasons why Oz not wanting to be with her that way was bad, but for tonight she felt that he understood, and she knew why he wanted to wait. Some part of her was the more excited for waiting, for making their way slowly to that point she had wanted to leap to so precipitously.
Even as the credits rolled, Willow wasn't entirely sure what movie they had watched, and the second one was even more forgettable, as the kisses they shared every time their fingers met in the popcorn bowl grew longer. Eventually the popcorn ended up all over the floor as they embraced, and the second movie spoke quietly to itself in the room, unheard by either of them.
When the second movie was over, they took a break. Willow cleaned up the popcorn, Oz packed up the videos, and they stood looking at each other in the suddenly clean room. Then Willow reached for his hand. "Come up to my room."
He gave her one of those inscrutable looks that made her wish she knew what he was thinking, then he smiled and took her hand, and let her lead him up the stairs. Stretching out on her bed, curled up next to him with his heart beating steadily next to her ear and his fingers slowly combing through her hair the way she loved, Willow fell asleep.
She woke to Oz's voice. "Willow."
Blinking sleepily, she smiled at him. "Morning already?"
"Kinda not really. Look."
They both sat up, looking out the window. Yesterday, they had been in the middle of a heat wave; this morning, they woke to snow, the little flakes drifting softly down to cover the ground. "Wow." Getting up off the bed, Willow walked to the window, looking out. She smiled. "It's so beautiful."
"Yeah. Yeah, it is."
Briefly, Willow wondered if this magic had anything to do with Buffy, or Angel. But then Oz's hand was in hers, and the snow was falling like in a movie, or a painting, and everything was just … perfect.