Freshly Fallen Snow

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just a cute little story that came to mind in math class when I should have been paying more attention..

Submitted: September 08, 2012

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Submitted: September 08, 2012



I stepped into the living room. Bright yellow walls lit up the room, the white trim and furniture... no TV though. That was downstairs. A big window with a view of the snowy street and some of the front yard. The snow was fresh, just like the cold, thin air.
I shivered. I was in nothing but my pyjamas with my cold feet on the hardwood floor. Something wasn’t right. Why was the house so cold? I took a few steps out and away from the dining area I’d just exited a few seconds before. I glanced over and saw that the front door was open.
I walked over to stand in the doorway. The cold winter breeze chilled me to the bone. Another shiver.
“What are you doing up?” I asked in surprise when I saw him. He looked over his jacket-covered shoulder to smile at me, nose red from the cold, hair tucked under a green toque. Mygreen toque!
“Hey, beautiful!” He said cheerily.
What could have possibly made me look beautiful right now? The messy ponytail I slept in? The loose pants? Tank top? That’d done it.
He turned to look at me, “How’re you this fine morning?” he continued to smile.
"I’m alright, I suppose.” I smiled sleepily, “But you didn’t answer my question.” I glanced meaningfully at the shovel in his hands.
“Well, I woke up early this morning and couldn’t fall back asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you up! I saw all the new snow out here and decided I’d shovel.” He gave me a genuine smile, “There’s some hot chocolate in the kitchen, by the way, if you’d like some.” He returned to his shovelling after sending a wink my way.
I rolled my eyes and returned back through the living room and dining room to the kitchen. The coffee maker had hot chocolate in it, just like my mum makes ever winter. So he’s made my favourite hot chocolate. I got two mugs out of the cupboard, and the mini marshmallows out of another, and poured myself and my husband each a cup of hot chocolate, with a handful of marshmallows in mine, and a few in his. I heard the front door close, and his jacket being taken off, boots being kicked to the side, and his footsteps through the living room. He walked into the kitchen, toque still on, his glasses all fogged up.
“You’re still in your Pyjamas?” I poked his stomach meaningfully, “Our new neighbours are going to think we’re lazy!” I laughed lightly.
“Hey, it’s New Years’ Day. Like they can blame me! You should be happy I was shovelling at all!” He took a sip from his mug.
“I know, I know. I’m very grateful that you did that for me.” I smiled at him.
He put his mug down and leaned over the counter to kiss me.
“Happy birthday, my amazing girl.” He said, looking me right in the eye, and gave me another quick peck on the lips.
“Happy new year, honey.” I replied, as we clicked our mugs together and each took a sip.

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