Warmth

WARMTH, PART I

Although most of his friends hated the slushy, grey snow that occasionally graced the city of Oakland with its presence, Mike Dirnt had a profound love for it. 

It was his element, his favorite part of the odd weather pattern his hometown experienced throughout the year.

He loved the feeling of sitting on the frosted wood of a front porch step, he loved the sounds of boots crunching through mounds of ice crystals and sloshing through slush, he loved the feeling of his face flushing red as a result of chilly winds nipping at him for far too long, and he loved hearing his children laugh hysterically when a snowball went flying through the air and landed on their faces with a loud splat.

Everything about the winter weather was simply indescribably wonderful to him.

As he sat on the nearly frozen wood of Billie's front porch, his face being kissed gently by snowflakes of all different shapes and sizes, he watched the children frolic and play in the snow just a few yards further up the lawn. It warmed his heart to see his own children getting along with Billie's young son, whom, to their father's chagrin, the two siblings had never seemed to like very much.

He watched as Brixton pulled the younger two children across the yard on a small sled, his mop of blond hair bobbing up and down as he ran through the snow and carted his sister and "little cousin" (for lack of a better word) along. The sweet laughter that filled the air caused Mike's frozen lips to curl upwards into a smile, the warmth in his heart now brought to an inferno.

Mike continued to watch the sweet display in front of him, watching so interestedly that he completely lost track of time and touch with reality. He was so interested in watching Brixton and Ryan pelt each other with dirty misshapen snowballs that he barely even noticed the small hand tugging on the frosty hem of his jeans.

"Uncky Mike?" The call of a sweet little voice right beneath him was enough to pull Mike's attention away from the laughing children and refocus it on the small boy by his leg.

"Hey, buddy!" Mike chirped after noticing that little Spazzy had been trying to get his attention. "What's up, huh? You tired?"

The little boy pondered the question and then shook his head in a negating fashion, later tilting it up towards his "Uncle".

"I'm vewy cold," the small boy squeaked, his eyes already pleading Mike to offer him warmth.

"Aww, you're cold?" Mike repeated, "Well that's not good!"

"Vewy cold," the little boy corrected, the degree to which his little body was chilled seeming to be a very important detail to him.

"Oh, you're very cold?" Mike repeated dramatically, making a characteristic and overly-exaggerated facial expression. "Well that definitely can't be good!  Come here, Uncle Mike'll keep you warm, no worries!"

Content flashing in his eyes, the chilled little boy toddled over to his uncle and allowed himself to be picked up, squirming as close to Mike as he possibly could upon being placed on his lap.

Mike wrapped his strong arms around his little nephew protectively, pulling him close and rubbing his back quickly in hopes of creating a sort of warming friction.

"How're ya feelin' now, little dude?" Mike asked after having rubbed the boy's back for a few minutes.

"Still cold," the toddler squeaked as he dug his face into Mike's scarf in search of warmth.

"Still?!" Mike exclaimed in his trademark overly-exaggerated play voice. "Oh no!"

"Cold..." the baby whined again, now working his little face up towards his uncle's armpit.

"Hey, hey stay out of there!" Mike chided playfully when Spazzy's little nose had dug its way into the crevice of his armpit. "Come on, stand up, I have an idea."

He pulled the boy away from his chest and sat him up, then pulling him under his sweater so that they were both trapped within the same layer of fabric.

"There we go!" Mike exclaimed happily. "Now we're both wearing my favorite sweater!"

Spazzy pulled his little head up to look Mike in the eyes and then giggled sweetly, the holiday lights hanging from the roof reflecting in the glimmering emerald eyes he had inherited from his father and giving them an almost magical glow.

As Mike stared into the boy's laughing green eyes, he recalled a familiar moment from the not so distant past, his heart melting like butter in a microwave at the thought.

He smiled softly at his nephew and leaned back a bit, pulling the boy even closer to his body and saying to him, "You know this reminds me of this one time that I had to keep tiiiiiinnnnyyy baby you warm from the cold!"

Spazzy's eyes widened with pure childlike awe at hearing the words, excitement building in his eyes at the sudden possibility that his uncle was going to tell him a story.

"Ooh, stowy, Uncky Mike?" the boy asked, his eyes burning with interest.

Mike chuckled at his nephew's enthusiasm and brushed a strand of his dark hair back from his forehead.

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you the story!" Mike said as the boy plopped down within their woolen confinement. "Well, it was the first time I ever met you, right after your papa got you, and it was a really cold night, almost as cold as this one! And you were so little Spazzy, you fit right in my hand!"

Mike held his hand out to Spazzy and traced over it as if to demonstrate how small baby Spazzy had been.

The boy's eyes again glowed with wonder as they fixated on Mike's large, calloused hand. After assessing that he had indeed been tiny, he snapped his head back up towards his uncle, the characteristically and adorably eager glow they held never once fading.

"An...and den what happened, Uncky Mike?" the three-year-old pressed, placing his tiny hands on Mike's chest excitedly.

A soft laugh escaped Mike's lips as he leaned back against the second step and ran a hand through the boy's hair.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" he responded playfully as the memories of that night so long ago began to flood his brain and warm his heart.

"Just let me tell the story!"

{Continue}

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ok so...I started some trash for y'all, and I'll update whenever my stupidass schedule allows me to, because high school is the actual worst thing ever. I haven't written in forever, so this was probably absolute garbage, but comments and votes are still appreciated none the less.

Stay gold y'all.
~Jay

merry Christmas and happy holidays!