He asks if I've ever seen snow before. The ocean has always been my mistress, like an old sailor who spent life on the sea so too it draws me. He asks me about snow. I ask him about being out of sight of the land, only having the water to cradle his body.
She talks about snow too, wishes for it under her breath while we shiver, huddled together and walking towards the car in the early light of morning. I try sometimes to tell her about how warm summer showers soothe me in ways very few things can. She says she wishes the clouds would give us sleet as a compromise.
We saw ice on streams today on the way to dinner. It was thin, but I could tell there was hope in her voice, and I imagine if he had been there he would have echoed it.
I shiver when temperatures drop much below 65, and none of my coats are enough to drive away the chill the winters here leave me with. I wrap myself in his coat and lean against him, nestled into the crook of his arm and still can't quite feel warm the same way the sun seeps into my heart.
But we sit anyway, with frozen ground beneath our feet and tiny snowflakes swirling around us. The night is dark but starlight glistens on everything, everything is covered in a thin layer of snow. He smiles warmly and a subtle longing settles into me. This is his heaven, and I don't feel like I belong. But I stay quiet and we just watch, until the beauty of it is clear to me.
I look up. fluffy white flakes swirl around me in the night, stars burning brightly overhead. I smile and a snowflake kisses my lips, the touch cold and brief as it melts. He kisses me soon after and we go inside. He tells me not to forget. I will not.
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