hot chocolate and thrift shopping

december 20 - nature's glitter

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

*͛ ͙͛ ⁑͛⋆͛*

he spits the toothpaste into the sink, swilling out his mouth before cleaning his toothbrush and sliding it back into its holder.

he switches off the light as he leaves the bathroom, passing through the hallway back into his bedroom. the brunette makes his way over to his dresser to get out some pyjamas, pausing as he glances out the window.

he stands, frozen in place, as he watches the smallest flecks of snow sprinkle down outside, falling from the sky and landing like a soft sheen over the grass outside.

he knows he's a hopeless romantic, but that is only proven by the fact that the first thing he thinks of after seeing snow is being out in it with someone he loves.

images flood his mind of dropping down into a cloud of white to make snow angels, just to struggle to take off your cold wet gloves so that you can take a photo of your creation.

or snowball fights that only come to an end once someone gets hit in the face. trying desperately to spit out the chunks of snow, just for them to melt away in your mouth until you're forced to consume it anyway.

he imagines kissing someone in the snow whilst it continues to fall down around them both, catching in their eyelashes and landing over broad shoulders, standing there in the cold until the only warmth left is from the connection of your lips on theirs.

he thinks about going back inside once you're both freezing, running a bath together with candles and bubbles and, despite the difficulty, you both manage to squeeze in.

and he would be so tired from the day that his lover would wash his hair for him, big hands stroking through brunette locks.

then, eventually, they'd switch, and it'd be his own turn to rub shampoo into his lover's blond hair.

or, not blond. why would they have to be blond? they could have any hair colour.

foolish shakes his head, dismissing the stupid fantasy and dragging his gaze away from the snow.

he tugs his drawer open, pulling out some of his thicker sweatpants and pulling them on- he figures he'll appreciate the extra warmth tomorrow.

he heads over to his closet, switching his t-shirt for a big hoodie before retreating to his bed.

he makes the decision not to close his curtains, as he'd much rather keep them open so he can stare out as the snow continues to glitter down over the street, collecting on the roof opposite and painting the world white.

he wonders if the roads have been salted recently, or if the snow will make it so people aren't able to drive safely the following morning. either way, it makes no real difference to him, since he walks to work. still, it's a thought he ponders as he stares blankly up at the ceiling.

the brunette is pulled out of his own head by a knock on his door. "come in."

his mom peeks her head into the room, smiling over at the brunette. "have you looked outside?" she asks.