Heads or Tails

One

My hand brushes against the frigid keys that dance in my pockets, my fingers crawling towards the warmth that the pouches of cloth seem to miraculously fabricate. Each step I take engraves the soles of my boots in the fresh, powder snow. I clutch my warm, grey jacket closed around me, my chin tucking itself closer to my chest in attempts to escape the bitter cold wind kissing my face. The gelid temperature manifests into fog as the vapor from my breath dances in air around me. Winter salt from the city streets catches on the ankle of my pant leg, staining the black fabric white. In attempts to keep my face from falling numb, I yank my faux fur-lined hood over my head. The air around me seems to fall lower in temperature with each passing minute. I turn my gaze towards the setting sun behind me before forcing myself onward.

My ceaseless journey pays off as sliding glass doors part for my arrival. I shake the snow from my mousy locks, watching the flakes melt before they could even touch the carpet beneath me. Shamelessly, I drag my feet on the welcoming rug that laid across the ground, gaining traction once more. My blue fingertips emerge from within the pocket of my coat. I push the button for the elevator and take the time to pull my hood off my head and unzip my jacket. Once the doors slide open, I step inside and push for the fifth floor, shivering at the warmth of the cavity. I pull my keys from my pocket, cupping them in my hands. I pull them to my lips and blow hot air across the metal edges. My taupe eyes peer up at the steadily increasing numbers, shrugging my purse up my shoulder as I do so.

Once the lift rattles to a stop and the doors creak open, I step out into the hall before me. The familiar doors welcome me when I walk past, reaching my own. I penetrate the lock with the cold key in my hand and open it, stepping inside. I am welcomed by the scent of amaryllis, baby's breath, gardenia, and hydrangea. I pause in the doorway to take in the scent, a calm smile spreading across my face as the sound of gentle humming fills my ears. My eyes scan the room in attempts to find the source of the smell, though I can only assume it is hidden somewhere. Walking further into the room, I close the door behind me. I unzip my briny boots and free my frigid digits, wiggling them from within my wool socks. I slump my heavy bag across the entryway table and toss my keys into the dish, then shake my coat from my broad shoulders. I hang the garment on the coat stand before sneaking into the kitchen.

I carefully creep across the wooden floor, dancing around the spots that would creak and give away my presence. Like a feline stalking her prey, I sink into myself, ready to pounce. A smirk grows across my faces as I leap forward, shoving my frozen fingertips underneath the shirt of the man standing beside the kitchen table. He bellows out in surprise and discomfort, launching the stacks of papers in his hand up into the air and across the room.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Kennedy!" He exclaims, causing me to laugh and my fingers to snake further up his back. He flinches away from my wiggling fingers and fakes a scowl on his face, crossing his arms over his otter-mode chest. His stance alone causes me to burst into laughter. Unsurprisingly, his mock anger does not last long, and soon he is laughing along with me. "You know that's not funny," he muses, kneeling on the ground to clean up his mess. Once I calm my laughter, I join him.

"Oh, don't be such a sour sport," I tease, shuffling up the documents without a second thought. "And to think you'd be excited to see me," I tease, climbing back to my feet. He matches my stance, though he stretches about a foot above me, and laughs, shaking his head. His gaze focuses on straightening the stack in his hand before glancing back at my frostbitten face.

"You know I'm always happy to see you," He smiles, taking the sheets from my hands and replacing them with a kiss om my cheek. My wide smile softens at the gesture. Even in the middle of December, Matthew seemed to be releasing enough heat to warm the apartment. I quickly step closer to him, gently placing my hand on his. He takes a breath.