We’re snowed in, and the truck won’t possibly be able make it through the streets, even if we dig it out. Not till the snow plows come through in another day or so. The house is freezing without a functioning heater. But the fire is nice, dancing a few feet away.

And it’s alright. There is no other place in the world I would rather be at this time then with you. All bunched up in a pile of all the pillows and blankets in the house, in the only room where the carpet isn’t crisp with cold beneath our feet. I lean into you to borrow some warmth. We fit so perfectly and comfortably together, like birds in their nests. Only better.

I look up out of the dark window, and the last image I see before closing my eyes is the snow falling softly in the streetlights. When I open them again, it is to your smiling green eyes and the gentle stroke of your fingers on my skin. Your lips are soft and warm against mine. We fall to the pillows, and laugh as we tangle in the blanket.

Let it snow. We’ll just stay inside always.