"Come outside, love!" he calls.
You love the snow. You grew up in the middle of nowhere in Ireland. Of course you love the snow. But it's supposed to snow through tomorrow. You don't really need to see it today. You can wait.
Today you wanted to just spend the entire day inside, watching movies curled up on the couch with Jack under a pile of blankets drinking hot chocolate and tea while the fireplace glows across the room.
Still, with his puffy coat and bright red cheeks and nose poking out from between his hat and scarf, you can't help but smile.
You shake your head at him as he runs around, playing in the snow like a child, so carefree that you fall even more in love with him. Your first Christmas season together since getting married was going to be a long one, but a happy one, if this was what was in store for you.
"I'll be right out," you call as you slip your boots on over you woollen socks and pull your jacket on over your jumper. You know that no matter the precautions you take, you're going to end up soaked through, so you don't even bother with a scarf or gloves.
Within a few moments, you're scampering down off your front porch to meet him as he falls backwards into the two feet of snow that's already accumulated and begins to make a snow angel.
You laugh at him and he grins up at you, all childlike and filled with wonder.
"What?" he asks.
"You're too cute for your own good," you shrug and you begin to hop through the snow to try and reach the garage where you know your sleds are.
"We should probably wait for tomorrow to use those," he catches your intentions and lifts himself up off the ground to come up behind you and wrap you in his arms.
"I don't wanna wait," you pout.
"I know," Jack rests his head upon your shoulder, kissing you quickly on the cheek before pulling back. "But we have days to just play in this and we can't exhaust ourselves all in one day," he explains.
"Fine," you sigh.
"That's ma girl," he kisses your cheek again and squeezes you tight before letting you go and running toward the side of the house.
You're just turning to follow when the first one hits.
"Jack you better not be starting what I think you are," you warn.
His response is to throw another snowball at you.
"So that's how this is going to be?" you ask.
"It won't be if you keep just standing there," he calls back. "It'll be over pretty soon with me being crowned the winner if you've got no defence or offence."
"You are such a little-" you get cut off when the snowball chips your shoulder. "Fucker," you duck his next attempt to maim you before firing back, hitting him square in the chest.
The battle continues for what has to be half an hour until you've reached a turning point. It's been about even until now. You're pinned up against the back of the house, Jack cutting off your escape route to the back door and the path back around too treacherous to attempt to outrun his tall frame.
"I'm raising a metaphorical white flag," you call out.
"Giving up?" he asks, taunting you.
"Surrendering to you, yes," you nod solemnly as you make your way up to him.
"Terms of your surrender?" he asks.
You lean toward him, rising onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
