Little Things #33

“Hey sleepyhead. Wake up.”

I felt H shake my shoulders lightly, but I just pretended I am still asleep. He had dragged me to their house in the woods, and can I just say that the bed here is just so heavenly? Yes, they are. They make me feel like I’m floating in the clouds—

“K, luv.”

Another shoulder shake, and I know I couldn’t fake it any longer. I opened my eyes, and H was smiling down on me. I frowned when I saw he was wearing his coat. I stretched my arms, all the way up, as I asked, “Where have you been?”

He pressed his lips on my forehead and then grabbed my arms, pulling me to a seated position. I tried to resist but he just was stronger. “Wrong question,” he said, grabbing my ponytail from the nightstand and giving it to me. I hoisted my bedhead hair up in a pony. “The right question is where are we going,” he said, and I asked him that.

“Let’s go,” he said, and he pulled me to stand. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions, just instructing me to put on my boots. He had my coat ready when I emerged from under the bed to get my boots.

“You are acting so weird,” I said, and he just shook his head. He took my hand and we walked towards the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Before I open this, I need you to close your eyes.”

I did what I was told, and I heard the door open. He guided me, slowly, as we stepped out onto the porch. I felt a strange, cold breeze assault me, and I shivered. He released my hand and I felt him walk a few steps away from me.

“Open your eyes,” he said loudly, and I did, only to close them again when I saw a small ball of something white about to hit me smack on the face.

“HOLY CRAP, H!!!!” I shouted, wiping the snow off my face.

WAIT WHAT?

“Snow,” I said softly. “SNOW!” I repeated, louder and happier this time. It probably started to snow while we were asleep.

I opened my eyes and I saw another snowball coming at me, but I managed to dodge it this time, and it hit the deck behind me. H was already running towards the yard, gathering snow in his hands and rolling them, the ball bigger than the first two. I ran down the steps and gathered snow myself, forming it into a ball, but the cold was making my hands numb, and H had so many years of practice with this.

I felt another snowball hit the side of my face, and I yelled at him to cut it off, but he wouldn’t.

“Don’t be a killjoy!” he shouted, and I finally managed to make one snowball. I heaved it towards his direction, my target a bit off, barely hitting him. I laughed just as he did, and he walked towards me, playing with a snowball in his hand.

I ducked when he reached me, and he laughed. “Not going to hit you with it,” he said, dropping it on the ground. He tucked me under his arm, and he pointed to the sky. We looked up, the snow falling on faces, cold but it was the welcoming kind of cold.

It was my first winter. My first ever snow day.

A snowflake fell on my nose, and I didn’t move, waiting for the others to fall. I smiled, and then opened my mouth, and I felt the tiny drops of coldness inside my mouth.

“This is so cool,” I told him, and he was grinning widely at me. “Not during snowstorms, but…” His voice trailed, realizing he was probably raining on my parade. He hugged me, and before I knew it we were falling on the ground. Aside from the snow on the ground, he had cushioned my fall. He rolled on top of me, and then rolled away from me, putting just enough space between us.

I raised an eyebrow in question, and he just spread his arms wide on the ground, and then started to flail them, like he was flying.

“AH,” was the only thing that came out of my mouth, and then I imitated him, and he watched me. He stood up and took out his phone from his coat and took a picture of me and my snow angel. After a couple of shots, he pulled me up to stand so that I can examine my newly minted handiwork.

My snow angel was a bit lousier than his, but it was still a snow angel.

My first snow angel.

“Looks alright,” he allowed, and I pouted. He kissed my pouty lips and before I could react faster, he threw a snowball at me, hitting my chest, and I shook my head, wagging my finger at him.

“You are asking for it,” I told him, dropping to the ground and making my own ammunition. He had lobbed a couple at me before I managed to make one, and then I concentrated hard enough, and I finally hit him, erasing his big smile.

 —

“K, wake up. Hey.”

I felt H shake my shoulder repeatedly. I groaned, muttering something about not in the mood for another snowball fight. But he kept on shaking my shoulder, telling me to wake up, and I finally opened my eyes. I pulled the thick blanket up to cover my naked body, and H turned me so that my back was facing him.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked, unable to hide my irritation. I turned my head so I could take a good look at his face. It seemed like he has found something interesting on my back, one that merited that amount of worry that was painted on his face.

“You’ve got angry blotches on your back, luv. Like really red, raised blotches,” he said, and he touched my skin very gently. I stayed silent, trying to feel for any pain. There wasn’t, but the incessant feeling of itchiness was there. I lay on my back, and then removed the blanket, and H gasped when he saw the blotches on my entire chest as well. I knew that if I actually inspected my thighs… well, let’s just say I’m just a really big blotch right now.

“Can you breathe properly? Do you need anything? What is this?” he asked, one after the other, and it was quite obvious that he was panicking. I wondered silently how long had passed since he saw the blotches.

“It’s an allergic reaction.”

To the snow?”

I laughed at his appalled reaction, and he looked a bit peeved that I was laughing at him when he was really worried about my condition. The cold was getting to me, and I covered my body again, trying not to scratch the itch that the blotches caused.

“I think it’s not the snow. It’s the really cold weather. I’ve had this reaction before.”

I pulled him towards me, placing my blotchy hand on his cheek. “I just need my meds. Can you check in the blue pillbox in my bag?”

He looked a bit placated that it was nothing serious, and he kissed a non-blotchy spot on my forehead. And then he stood up, grabbing my bag and searching for the pillbox. He jumped back into the bed and handed it to me, and I uttered a curse.

“No more?” he asked, and I nodded sadly. Before I knew it, he was off the bed and he was putting on his jeans and a random shirt. He asked for the name of the meds, and he had ignored any of my protests that I can actually manage through the itch.

“I am uncomfortable at the thought that you’re suffering a bit,” he said, and I stood up, the blanket wrapped around my body, and I gave him the biggest kiss of appreciation I could muster. When I released him, his look was naughty, and I looked him my question.

“I might reconsider on getting your meds,” he said, his voice husky, and I laughed. I slapped him playfully on the butt—his cutesy butt that is so perfect—and then pushed him towards the door. He grabbed his keys from the nightstand and then waved me a goodbye, and I ran to the window, watching him leave.

It was still snowing outside, and a snowflake fell, sticking on the glass of the window, and I smiled, remembering our snowball fight from yesterday.

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