Outside, it was snowing.
Cold and crisp, London turned white as it was frosted with snow. Few people milled about, as the sun set so early, and those that did were wrapped from head to toe in their warmest clothes.
Inside, it was warm.
The apartment's heater was on, as well as the lights. In the kitchen was clanging and scraping, as Dan cooked dinner - it was one of those days where he had more energy (which seemed to be more frequent than they once were), and he had a recipe he wanted to try. It was warm nice cozy interest? contentment.
Mark had no complaints, as it gave him the night off from cooking. He lay on the carpet, cuddled up with Chica and dozing - his hoodie was absolutely covered in dog hair. He was happy just to soak in the sounds of the apartment.
"Haha! Take that!"
"Cheater!"
"It ain't cheatin' if ye're jus' bad at the game!"
Phil blew a raspberry at Jack, who was doing a victory dance. On-screen was a trophy announcing the Irishman's win at Mario Kart.
It wasn't a loud and boisterous evening, but they were all together, and it was nice.