Christmas fic based on a tumblr anon prompt.
Gantlos looked out the window, snow.
And way too much of it.
He always hated snow.
Always hated the cold.
But he didn’t hate her.
Even though she was much colder than the winter he detested.
A sudden cold chill rattled Gantlos’ bones. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, looking about the room for the Источник of the chill.
He traced it back to the window where Icy sat, perched up on the sill starring out at the frost-coated landscape. He didn’t know when she did it, but she had pushed the window wide open; letting in the chilly air.
He sighed. Perhaps inviting the wintery witch over for Рождество ужин wasn’t a good idea. She tossed her hair over her shoulder; “so, are we going to do anything или am I going to have to head over to Stormy’s place?”
“Stormy’s place?” He asked.
“She holds a Рождество party every year. I told she and Darcy that I’d be spending the holidays with you. Am I going to regret it?”
“Certainly not.” He moved over to the table. “Can Ты close the window?”
Icy considered. “No.”
Gantlos sighed and poured them each a glass of wine. Icy curled her fingers around the glass and brought it to her lips. “What’s in this?”
“Sprinkle of cinnamon. Dash of peppermint.” Gantlos replied. “Do Ты like it?”
“Well I’ve never tried anything like it before, that’s something.” Icy muttered as she walked back to her spot on the windowsill. The wind tossed her hair every which way. Her gaze returned to the snow; plumpest full moon setting it aglitter. “Reminds me of home.” She сказал(-а) sullenly.
He couldn’t tell if she was talking to him или to herself.
Maybe both.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to hear it at all.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Neither good nor bad.” Icy shrugged.
The call of a flock of late-leaving wild birds filled his ears. The cry of a wolf. And then its mate, или maybe it’s cub, или simply a pack mate.
In all of his years living out in the forest, he never had stopped to listen to the winter night sounds; partly because everything was dead and he didn’t expect to hear anything at all, mostly because it was too cold to open the window или to stand outside.
And then came an unrecognizable call.
Gantlos narrowed his eyes and focused in on it.
Icy caught onto his confusion, “snowy owl.” She paused, “common household pet back at home.”
“Do Ты miss home.” Gantlos called from the room over as he sat on the sofa…near the nice and warm fireplace. The breeze hadn’t a chance to chill his living room yet. He clicked the TV on.
Nothing worth watching.
“I suppose, sometimes.” Icy answered.
He settled on the 7:00 news.
“Only when I think about it.” She added, “it doesn’t пересекать, крест my mind often. I don’t let it.”
Gantlos wondered what happened to home. Did she somehow lose it? Did she simply leave it and not return? Was the departure on a горький или sweet note? Perhaps her family didn’t care for witches. Perhaps she was from one of the towns that the Sun Warriors wiped out back when they were much younger.
He didn’t ask.
He didn’t know her that well yet.
So he settled on a different question, “why did Ты decide to spend the holidays here. Ты just met me months ago.”
“I needed a change of…well…everything I suppose. Nothing ever seems to change, not to my benefit anyhow. I need something new. I need excitement. And Ты seem like an adventure of sorts.” She took another sip of her wine. “Or something like that.”
He nodded. The ice witch was rather fascinating. If he was an adventure, she was a mystery. или maybe an erotic novel, he couldn’t decide which.
“So stock up and stay indoors…” The news reporter trailed off.
He rewound the forecast to find a prediction of a snow storm. A big blizzard. A faint mischief-dribble smile tugged at the witch’s lips. Clearly this was the forecast she had been hoping for.
Seven feet of snow.
Record breaking.
Snowed in.
Those are the words he caught.
He moved back into the кухня making a count of his Еда rations.
Icy rolled her eyes. “Relax, if Ты need еще food, I can get us out of the house. Wouldn’t be much of a witch if I couldn’t.”
Gantlos looked over at the window; the snowfall was already picking up considerably.
“Record breaking my ass.” Icy remarked with a dismissive hand wave. “Back at Главная seven feet of snow is expected, everything stays open, cars still drive. Thirteen to fifteen feet is record breaking.”
“You’ve been through some shit haven’t you?”
“I enjoy thirteen to fifteen feet.” Icy lie down, stretching her slim body across the windowsill. Her expression grew distant almost longing.
She Остаться в живых Главная somehow, he decided inwardly.
He still didn’t ask.
“You’re something else.” He сказал(-а) instead.
He walked back to the living room and toyed with the fireplace until a blaze roared within…
And then he channel surfed again.
He’d savor the TV and the power, should the blizzard cut it out.
He returned to Icy an час later.
By this time the winter was pouring into his house.
Literally.
His eyes landed on a pile of snow on floor.
When his eyes fell upon the window he came to realize that he couldn’t see еще than a few feet into the icy landscape.
Icy landscape.
Icy.
The woman seemed unfazed, almost satisfied with the snow brewing wildly around her. He really didn’t want to be a buzzkill…
But he spoke up anyhow; “is now a good time to ask Ты to close the window?”
Icy rolled her eyes and tugged it shut. “I suppose I’ll leave it shut if Ты don’t mind being stuck with me for…” she looked out the window, “a little under a week I assume.”
“No, I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Gantlos heaved himself onto the windowsill.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, “I suppose it will give us plenty of time to get to know each other.” She trailed her pointer over his chest.
And there was indeed, a lot he wanted to know about her.
Gantlos looked out the window, snow.
And way too much of it.
He always hated snow.
Always hated the cold.
But he didn’t hate her.
Even though she was much colder than the winter he detested.
A sudden cold chill rattled Gantlos’ bones. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, looking about the room for the Источник of the chill.
He traced it back to the window where Icy sat, perched up on the sill starring out at the frost-coated landscape. He didn’t know when she did it, but she had pushed the window wide open; letting in the chilly air.
He sighed. Perhaps inviting the wintery witch over for Рождество ужин wasn’t a good idea. She tossed her hair over her shoulder; “so, are we going to do anything или am I going to have to head over to Stormy’s place?”
“Stormy’s place?” He asked.
“She holds a Рождество party every year. I told she and Darcy that I’d be spending the holidays with you. Am I going to regret it?”
“Certainly not.” He moved over to the table. “Can Ты close the window?”
Icy considered. “No.”
Gantlos sighed and poured them each a glass of wine. Icy curled her fingers around the glass and brought it to her lips. “What’s in this?”
“Sprinkle of cinnamon. Dash of peppermint.” Gantlos replied. “Do Ты like it?”
“Well I’ve never tried anything like it before, that’s something.” Icy muttered as she walked back to her spot on the windowsill. The wind tossed her hair every which way. Her gaze returned to the snow; plumpest full moon setting it aglitter. “Reminds me of home.” She сказал(-а) sullenly.
He couldn’t tell if she was talking to him или to herself.
Maybe both.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to hear it at all.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Neither good nor bad.” Icy shrugged.
The call of a flock of late-leaving wild birds filled his ears. The cry of a wolf. And then its mate, или maybe it’s cub, или simply a pack mate.
In all of his years living out in the forest, he never had stopped to listen to the winter night sounds; partly because everything was dead and he didn’t expect to hear anything at all, mostly because it was too cold to open the window или to stand outside.
And then came an unrecognizable call.
Gantlos narrowed his eyes and focused in on it.
Icy caught onto his confusion, “snowy owl.” She paused, “common household pet back at home.”
“Do Ты miss home.” Gantlos called from the room over as he sat on the sofa…near the nice and warm fireplace. The breeze hadn’t a chance to chill his living room yet. He clicked the TV on.
Nothing worth watching.
“I suppose, sometimes.” Icy answered.
He settled on the 7:00 news.
“Only when I think about it.” She added, “it doesn’t пересекать, крест my mind often. I don’t let it.”
Gantlos wondered what happened to home. Did she somehow lose it? Did she simply leave it and not return? Was the departure on a горький или sweet note? Perhaps her family didn’t care for witches. Perhaps she was from one of the towns that the Sun Warriors wiped out back when they were much younger.
He didn’t ask.
He didn’t know her that well yet.
So he settled on a different question, “why did Ты decide to spend the holidays here. Ты just met me months ago.”
“I needed a change of…well…everything I suppose. Nothing ever seems to change, not to my benefit anyhow. I need something new. I need excitement. And Ты seem like an adventure of sorts.” She took another sip of her wine. “Or something like that.”
He nodded. The ice witch was rather fascinating. If he was an adventure, she was a mystery. или maybe an erotic novel, he couldn’t decide which.
“So stock up and stay indoors…” The news reporter trailed off.
He rewound the forecast to find a prediction of a snow storm. A big blizzard. A faint mischief-dribble smile tugged at the witch’s lips. Clearly this was the forecast she had been hoping for.
Seven feet of snow.
Record breaking.
Snowed in.
Those are the words he caught.
He moved back into the кухня making a count of his Еда rations.
Icy rolled her eyes. “Relax, if Ты need еще food, I can get us out of the house. Wouldn’t be much of a witch if I couldn’t.”
Gantlos looked over at the window; the snowfall was already picking up considerably.
“Record breaking my ass.” Icy remarked with a dismissive hand wave. “Back at Главная seven feet of snow is expected, everything stays open, cars still drive. Thirteen to fifteen feet is record breaking.”
“You’ve been through some shit haven’t you?”
“I enjoy thirteen to fifteen feet.” Icy lie down, stretching her slim body across the windowsill. Her expression grew distant almost longing.
She Остаться в живых Главная somehow, he decided inwardly.
He still didn’t ask.
“You’re something else.” He сказал(-а) instead.
He walked back to the living room and toyed with the fireplace until a blaze roared within…
And then he channel surfed again.
He’d savor the TV and the power, should the blizzard cut it out.
He returned to Icy an час later.
By this time the winter was pouring into his house.
Literally.
His eyes landed on a pile of snow on floor.
When his eyes fell upon the window he came to realize that he couldn’t see еще than a few feet into the icy landscape.
Icy landscape.
Icy.
The woman seemed unfazed, almost satisfied with the snow brewing wildly around her. He really didn’t want to be a buzzkill…
But he spoke up anyhow; “is now a good time to ask Ты to close the window?”
Icy rolled her eyes and tugged it shut. “I suppose I’ll leave it shut if Ты don’t mind being stuck with me for…” she looked out the window, “a little under a week I assume.”
“No, I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Gantlos heaved himself onto the windowsill.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, “I suppose it will give us plenty of time to get to know each other.” She trailed her pointer over his chest.
And there was indeed, a lot he wanted to know about her.
