Snow

374 16 4

by lubdubology

by lubdubology

You hated the snow.

It was cold, miserable and wet. It took entirely too much time to clear from sidewalks and streets. The salt stuck to your boots, sticking between the crevices and even managing to worm into your socks and between your toes. Wet, brown slush inevitably trailed through tiled areas in houses and threatened to stain carpeted ones.

Falling snow stuck in your hair, frizzing the ends and the warmth beneath your hat curling the hair there as well. The tips of your fingers always went numb, despite your best pair of gloves and a chill seemed to reside in your bones for hours after being outside during the winter months. Your nose turned pink and ran even at the slightest exposure and there wasn't enough lip balm in the world to prevent dried lips.

You hated the snow.

+++

Avi loved the snow.

You were with him somewhere in the Midwest (so many places and dates had already swirled by on this tour, everything seemed a blur) when those flaky, white crystals began to fall from the sky. Frowning out the window, you sigh in disgust and turn away. Next to you, Avi is bouncing in his seat, eagerly awaiting the bus to stop. He nudges you and whispers reverently, "Look! Snow." The last word sounds like a prayer falling from his tongue.

You hum in your throat and smile despite yourself at his obvious enthusiasm.

When the bus finally eases to a stop, Avi pulls you up, barely giving you time to throw on a zip-up before dragging you towards the door. His hand is warm in yours and as the doors open, the bitter winter air chills your exposed skin.

"Avi, you're crazy!" you call as he runs to stand a few feet from you, tilting his head toward the sky.

Folding your arms and tucking your hands tightly to your sides, you approach him, visibly shivering by the time you reach him. Small flakes of snow have begun to stick to the curls in his hair, the stubble of his beard and the delicate tips of his eyelashes. "C'mere," he says, jerking his head and opening the lapels of his jacket.

Stepping forward, he wraps you in his arms, his hands resting softly against your lower back. His warmth seeps into your skin and you relish in his slight shiver as you snake your hands up under the hem of his shirt to rest against his back. Looking up at him, you smile and briefly kiss the tip of his chin, your lips catching some of the snowflakes there. "You really like the snow, huh?" you ask with a smirk.

Avi sighs happily. "I really do."

Your nose turns pink, your fingers turn numb, snowflakes stick to your hair and a slight dampness worms its way through the thin fabric of your shoes. But at Avi's smile and light press of his lips to yours, you don't really care.

Maybe snow isn't that bad.