Snow

His arms fastened around my waist and I leaned back against him, using his shoulder as a pillow.

“Let’s see…” I mused. “If I were a weather, what would I be?”

“Snow.”

Visions of painful treks through blizzards, icicles hanging from every orifice rushed to the forefront of my mind. I cocked my head up at him, “Why?”

He looked at me for a long moment. “It’s magical.”

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