Home and Hearth

It's snowing. She watches the flakes from the night sky in a daze. It's cold, not nearly cold enough to send her running for a scarf, but the chill creeps up her spine with every snowflake that drops. The streets never looked so peaceful, not with the great shadow looming over everyone's hearts. A streetlight beside her bench is the only warmth, the only comfort. The stars glitter above. The festive decorations and the smell of pies do very little to calm her jumping heart. Perry takes a large breath, and sips her cocoa. It's cold. "Of course." She murmurs, staring down at the liquid helplessly. The cup is small, wreaths of holly painted around the rims. Her gloves nearly swallow it whole. She takes another drink, cringing at the taste. Distantly, a child laughs, something so weird and foreign to hear. Her reflection in the cup looks pensive. She tries for a smile. It looks like she's cringing. I feel ridiculous. She rubs her eyes. There's a tension in her shoulders that simply won't leave. It's frustrating, especially since everything is over. The war, the death, the fighting. It was the holiday celebration. A time to rejoice. She kicks her boots out at the snow, watching it spray out onto the icy road. A small coat of white is already gathering on her shoulders. Her cup feels like dead weight. Her ears droop on her head. "It was just a dream." She scolds herself. But the hollow pit in her stomach didn't go away, not with the thoughts of hellfire and death raining from the sky. Cruel laughter and harsh words, close friends lost in memory and those who stood beside her gone with the fading sun. People who should be here, no longer. It didn't feel warm. She exhales stressfully. "Happy holidays." She whispers, feeling drained. The crunching of snow makes her pout, because it's not long before the footfalls stop behind her bench. Arms circle around her shoulders, drawing her into a warm hug. The tension melts off her. She breathes a sigh into his sleeve, feeling her racing heart stutter at his breath tickling her neck. "You didn't wake me." He says, sounding every bit like he just woke up with cotton in his mouth. "Well, I-" She can't make the words and settles for, "I missed the stars." "Hmm." He nuzzles the back of her head. A smile twitches at her lips, elation building in her chest. They hardly had time for idle comforts. She ached for the times they could do this without the fear of sharp blades and magic. It felt weird to embrace the idea of not having to look at every moving shadow. "You're cold." He grumbles accusingly. She snorts, reaching a hand up to tangle his hair. She can practically feel his frown and she says, "It's snowing, love." "I can change that." He murmurs. She doesn't doubt he could, but shakes her head anyway. If she asked, he'd probably rearrange the climate for her. Little things didn't seem to have such a consequence anymore. "Will you join me?" She asks instead. He doesn't move, mumbling sleepily into her shoulder. She waits, giggling under her breath and cradling her forgotten cup to her chest. He lifts his hand, placing it on the bench beside her. She goes to turn, a tease on her lips, before she get a face full of white cold in her eyes. "Khadgar!" She cries, a laugh bubbling out as she wipes her face of snow. He's grinning down at her, hair disheveled from sleep and eyes glittering in the light of the lantern. It chases away the tightness in her chest and the shadows in her head. "Your stars are sleeping, love." He leans down, forehead pushing against hers. His eyes trap her, swallow her whole with their warmth. "Join me instead?" Dreams far from her mind, she laughs. He likes the sound so much he kisses her cheek. "You've hardly convinced me." She says, but would do anything if he asked. From the way his smile touches his eyes, he knows as much as she does. "A fresh drink." He says into her lips. "And I'll light the hearth." "Make it two." She says, and draws him in for another.