He was starting to look like the cold weather. Not the pale, bleak kind that lasted as long as sanity allowed; the kind that barricades you indoors. Not that kind at all. He was the winter of snow days and sleds, hot chocolate and warm meals, and shivers that seemed to matter less and less as long as you were outside. In spring, he was the sunrise; in summer, he was the warm touch on your skin, in autumn, he was the hayride after hours. But right now he was the winter, sitting on the front porch, bundling himself up in layers of clothing, bending his neck over what was probably a book. I couldn’t quite tell because I was only watching him from the other side of our screen door, still in my slippers, taking my time because it was the first time I’d seen the winter in a year. I watched him a moment longer, allowing him to make another first impression on me before I replaced the slippers with boots and met him. I was right—it was a book he’d been so focused on. He was still reading when I sat down beside him. He flinched when I grabbed his hand, but, when the sense of familiarity hit in, he looked up, wordlessly, and grinned at me. Slowly, reading each word until the covers took over the story, he closed the book to move himself closer to me and wrap one arm around my shoulder. His coat sleeves were beginning to smell like coffee from the cups he allowed himself every cold morning, but his collar still smelled of the smoke from the warm days of the bonfire.
He signed the word, “Tired?”
I shook my head. It was early in the morning, but I’d been up for half an hour. I always woke up a few minutes after him. After a few years, having a bed to myself wasn’t comfortable anymore.
He offered me a sip of his coffee, anyway. I took it, only to find the cold had ruined it. I glared at him and dumped the rest off the side of the porch.
He stuck his tongue out at me.
I shrugged. Who cared?
The winter sighed and rolled his eyes, but there was still a small grin on his cheeks. He took the cup from me and stretched himself out of his seat.
He kissed my cheek before heading back indoors. I stayed outside, even though my face was turning a shade of blush red. I’d only take a moment. I nodded at the flakes of snow, just beginning to stick to the earth’s floor. All was well.
