Her Knight In Rusty Armor

Chapter XXVI

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Granola Bars
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Outside the windows, snowflakes gently fluttered towards the ground, gradually decking the windowsill and forming piles of it in the yard outside. All I could see for miles was glitter falling against a snowy white backdrop, and I smiled at the view before me.

Winters were my favourite. People usually took me for an autumn kid, but in reality, all I could ever do was count the days until the subtle chill would freeze my fingertips to numbness and the breeze tinge my nose red. The cold was quite... immaculate, I'd say.

I watched from the bedroom window as Beth and Kate tossed fairy lights over the bushes lining the backyard, my breath fogging up the window's glass.

"Achoo!" came a sound from behind me. Ethan had just stepped into the room.

"Seasonal allergies?" I passed him a sympathetic smile.

"You got that right," he replied, sniffing sombrely as he nuzzled into the scarf wrapped around his neck. "Have you seen Marco?"

"Yeah, he's helping mama with the tree."

"And you're just standing here, stalkin' the girl you're hoping to kiss under the mistletoe?"

Feeling the warmth creep up to my ears, I sunk lower into the white scarf wrapped around my neck, hiding my face from him in embarrassment. There was something intimidating about him, though you'd think a guy who had bubblegum for all his meals wouldn't be harmful at all.

He chuckled at me, patting his hand over my shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure we won't be hanging the mistletoe anywhere," I muttered.

"Maybe I will," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. And with that, he ambled out of the room, turning right to where the guest room was.

He was an idiot.

After glancing down the window one last time, I walked out of my bedroom, down the stairs, taking a turn into the sitting lounge. At the far end of the room near the furnace were mom and Marc, both of them putting up accessories on the tall fig tree placed in the corner of the room.

Mom grabbed a cherry-shaped ornament from one of the three haphazard boxes placed on the floor, displaying it next to a small Polaroid picture dangling from one of the branches. The latter was a picture of Beth and I, my arm wrapped around her shoulder with snow-capped mountain ranges stretching behind us.

I remembered that day as clear as day. Beth had seen a hot guy hiking nearby, and, judging by the look on her face at that time, it was child's play to figure out just about how whipped she was.

"You gonna help us, man?" Marc mused, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to point at the Christmas tree.

I smirked at him. "I'm off to the store, the busy man I am."

Mom passed me a disapproving look, shaking her head at me. I chuckled at her.

Sparing the Christmas tree one last glance, I walked out of the sitting lounge and into the lobby, not before hearing my mom yell, "Grab a few granola bars for me, too, munchkin!"

Letting out a puff of air from my nostrils, I smiled. She loved granola bars; in my opinion, they tasted like baked dirt.

As I walked out the front door, the chilly air pricking at my skin like needles, I took a quick glance at the houses around mine. All of them were decked with layers of sleet, neon lights hanging from over the roofs and twinkling softly against the ivory snow. The gentle particles of enslaved coolness continuously kept on falling from above, wafting away from their counterparts and finding new homes on the surface.