Flurries of snow swirled through the air. They danced with the wind, a waltz between elements. Puffs of white sat comfortably on Harry’s thick clothing, soaking into the coarse material of his coat and seeping into the fluffy material of his scarf. He hissed as a cold dot pricked his neck, a shot of winter being injected into his bloodstream. He could feel the chill behind his eyes and the ice under his nails. White fluttered in front of his green eyes, marring the calm scene that encompassed him.
Underneath his feet, a crunching noise gave way. It was the sound of Christmas, the sound of winter warmth. A sense of satisfaction threaded itself in between the bitter chill in his veins. It was such a rounded noise, a one which let a hidden smile try and push its way onto his lips because of its glory. Honestly, Harry could step on snow for the rest of his life and never get bored of the sound. It was something which, for some reason, got his heart in a flutter and his chest in a tightening hold. It was probably the anticipation of the twenty fifth, but Harry liked to think of it as something more meaningful than a date.
Harry could see the glowing bakery in sight. Its windows were dressed in festive decorations, too many, actually, but Louis had insisted. And what Louis wants, Louis gets - in Harry’s view, anyway. Red tinsel was tacked along the edges, shiny metallic paper squished against the glass. Fake snow was sprayed onto the window to mist it up, to hide some of the outside world away from the cosy shop inside. A small Christmas tree, an overly decorated tree, was standing proud at the front of the window. No coordinated colours were applied to the green mound, just many splashes of random colour hanging from each branch. Baubles winked when the winter sun glanced towards them, showing off their shiny exterior. Louis had even gone to the extent of sticking small reindeer stickers around the advertisement posters that were clinging desperately to the glass, making them sit on the paper and grin to the outside world. It was somewhat gaudy and a little bit tacky, but it shone Christmas spirit and what more could Harry ask for?
Suddenly, Harry felt his toes squish to the front of his heavy boots and the soles of said restraining shoes lose grip on the ground. In one fell swoop, Harry’s bottom had been plonked onto the freezing cold floor. An aching eruption spread from the victim area up to his lower back, the cold not being able to numb the shock. A flush of a blush joined the pinkness of his cheeks as embarrassment curdled in his stomach. Harry glanced around and tried to peek through the ever thickening snow to spot if he had an audience, but thankfully the street was bare other than two dithering grannies by the post office.
Remembering that he had had a heavy plastic bag in his hand before he fell, Harry’s eyes quickly shot around to search for his purchases. One by one, each came into sight from their places scattered over the whitened pavement. Harry sighed, a flood of cloudy air parting from his lips and joining the party of snow eagerly. He hobbled up from the ground, a hand rubbing the victim area to soothe it a little, and then started collecting each item. As he picked up the jar of mincemeat, Harry groaned in annoyance. A crack had broken through the glass and sticky brown mincemeat was splurging through. It glued onto Harry’s skin as he swivelled the jar in his hands to try and find any other damages, only adding to the grossness of the dirt and snow that graced his skin. It did not help that Louis had stolen - okay, you’re right, it was not exactly like that. Harry offered the gloves to his partner on their way to the bakery when he noticed the redness of his skin and the constant rubbing together motion that Louis kept doing. He was only being courteous, well, he was actually only being self indulgent because he loved seeing Louis wrapped up so adorably, but that was not the point. - his gloves from Harry that morning and conveniently forgotten to give them back before Harry left to collect the needed ingredients.
The soft snow started to float from the sky even more so than before. It started to seep so far into Harry’s clothes that it dipped to his skin, the bitterness pinching him. With a bid to hurry up, Harry stuffed everything into the soggy plastic bag and hurriedly, yet cautiously, made his way to the bakery. As he neared the petite shop, Harry could smell the fresh bread and sweet treats. The scent warmed from the inside out. It was a comforting aroma which made him feel at home, feel loved and taken care of. It smelled of Louis.
