Diggy Diggy One-Shots(Yogs and Hatfilms)

Ridgephos (SFW)

TW: Fluffy toes, and marsh mellows!

Title: ~Cold Toes and Marshmellows~

Boots crunched through the grass beneath his feet as chilly air crept beneath his collar and tickled his toes. He liked this time of year, he really did, when the last orange leaves drifted down from bare limbed trees and the frost coated the ground white and covered window panes with intricate patterns built with fine shards of ice. Every breath he let out clouded into a stream of mist that drifted and danced on the breeze before floating up and disappearing against the heavy grey skies. He liked this season, he really did, liked the festivities and the warmth of crackling fires, the laughter and the tingling burn of golden brandy as it slipped down his throat. He liked this season. What he didn’t like was working during it. It was all perfectly fine to curl up next to a roaring fire and watch the first flakes of snow fall silently like a blanket over the earth, but it was not so fun to have to trudge through it the next morning, lips blue and fingers numb against the bitter winds, flakes clinging to your eyelashes until you are almost blind. What was not fun was stepping into a freezing factory filled with cold air that would take forever to heat up, and have to crank up the protesting machines that spluttered into life with a wheeze. What really wasn’t fun was having to walk home after a ridiculously long day of working, cold nose buried deep inside the confines of his scarf in an attempt to keep warm, feet scuffing against the ground as he briskly charged home before it could get any darker. Which was where he found himself now. Xephos loved autumn, loved watching the changes as the life and colour if summer slowly seeped away into the icy grip of winter, loved watching the lush green hills fade out into a white so bleak and harshly pure you couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the land began. He loved all of this as long as he was warm and inside, away from the North winds and the falling snow.

But he wasn’t. He huffed a little and sped up, desperate to get inside and warm up, though it would surprise him if his toes had actually fallen off by now and were just rattling around inside his shoes. He focused on the lure of red wine, a good book and enough blankets to get lost in, but all his thoughts of happiness were swept away by another cruel gust of biting wind. This was ridiculous. He could have been home by now, warm and cosy, if Lalna hadn’t have insisted he was needed to watch another perfectly pointless experiment that was supposed to somehow increase Jaffa production. If only the stupid cakes weren’t so popular at this time of year maybe the factory could be shut and he could stay home, never have to brave the cold weather or have numb fingers or deal with Lalna’s crazy ideas.

At least he knew what to write on his Christmas wish list this year.

He rounded the last row of trees in the orchard and made a beeline straight for the door, boots crunching along the gravel path as he fished in his pocket for the keys. His fingers finally clasped around cool metal and he drew them up out of his pocket with a cheery jangle, triumphantly raising them up.

He dropped them.

He scrabbled around on the ground for a moment, cursing his numb fingers for a moment, before snatching the keys up again and jamming them into the lock on the door and twisting them violently. To his relief the door swung open and he hurried inside, slamming it shut behind him as delicious warm air rushed up to greet him like an old friend, curling around his cold fingers and chasing away the last remnants of the bitter wind outside. He stood for a moment in the foyer, eyes closed, as he felt the chill seep out of his cold bones, replaced with soothing warmth, eyes burning as any remainders of coldness faded into dim memories. Eventually the nerves returned to his fingers and he slipped off his jacket and scarf, hanging them up on the end of the banister and slipping off his boots and socks, leaving them in a pile to thaw out by the radiator, a small puddle of meltwater already forming around the soles. He wriggled his toes happily against the cooler marble before setting out into the house to find somewhere warm to curl up with a good book. He set up the stairs, peeling his shirt from his back as he padded across the carpet, sighing happily as the warm air tingled across his bare skin. He shivered slightly, heading along the corridor before slipping inside his bedroom. He paused for a moment, before padding across to the huge wardrobe and tugging it open. He rolled his eyes, pushing past the rows of coats before reaching back into the dark depth. A smile planted itself firmly on his lips as his fingers clasped around soft fabric. He checked over his shoulder before tugging it out, revealing his favourite grey sweater, thumbs rubbing over the thick soft fabric. He couldn’t resist burying his face in it for a moment, deeply inhaling the slight scent of soft leather and champagne hidden in the fibers before standing and tugging it over his head, the comfortable material clinging snugly to his skin. He snuggled inside of it, nose hidden inside the turtleneck, as he breathed in again, lips twitching into smile behind the fabric. It was good to be home.