Idiots to Lovers (bxb)

40 | Snow Monster

I realized too late that I had eaten far too much Christmas cake. I say eaten, but more realistically I had drunk it. It was too soggy to slice, or even hold, so Everett had just spooned the vile concoction into a big Santa mug. He said it was more festive that way.

"I'm not sure whether I'm numb from the cold or from this cake," I muttered, reaching a hand to my face. It felt like there was a lag between the moment I tried to move my hand and the moment my hand actually moved.

"It's not the cake, don't worry. I'm completely numb too," Everett assured.

"But you ate more cake than I did."

"Well, I feel fine." He flopped down into a pile of snow, gesturing expansively. "It's just the cold."

We were sitting outside in the garden, waiting until the snow piled up enough to build a snowman. The wind whipped against my face and flakes stuck to my lashes.

I drew up my knees, shifting closer to Everett's warmth. "Remind me again why we aren't just waiting inside?"

"It could just stop snowing and evaporate at any instant! I don't want to miss it again."

I traced a pattern onto the snow. The layer was thin enough that the brown mud beneath dirtied the white surface. "We'll have to wait a while."

"No, there's like," he gestured wildly, "snow everywhere. We can make angels too."

Everett wriggled about where he lay in the snow. His limbs moved haphazardly, not keeping to any particular direction as he muttered something about the art of making snow angels under his breath. I temporarily wondered whether he was drunk. But then again, he wasn't acting any differently to normal.

When he was done he scrambled to his feet, kicking up more snow and mud in the process. His hands planted on the angel, leaving glove prints all over, his elbows messing up the wings. I pulled him to his feet and we stood side by side, gazing at his handiwork. It looked like a dog had tried to dig a hole.

Everett beamed. "Does it look like me?"

I tipped my head to the side. "Um...sure."

"Really?"

"Well, it has your essence."

He seemed pleased with that answer. His eyes glittered from beneath snow caked lashes, and I could see the edge of a smile from behind his yellow scarf.

"Let's gather up some snow from around the garden," Everett suggested. "I think we can make a big enough pile for a snowman."

Everett led me to the shed from where he promoted grabbed a rake. I opted for the more obvious choice of a snow shovel. We started building our pile, his rake dragging muddy lines through the snow. It created dirty brown rivulets all over the lawn, snow turning to rainwater and mixing with the sand.

"Uhh...I think we have enough now." Everett leaned against his rake, staring unsurely at the dirty heap of snow.

"It's mud," I stated. "What we're making is a mud man."

"It melted faster than I thought." Everett squinted up at the sun that had poked out of the clouds and was now beaming brightly. "Curse you, horrendous British weather." He shook his rake at the sky, sending dirty snow flying over us both.

I half-heartedly prodded at the heap with the tip of my shovel. "We can still poke a couple sticks in there and give it a face."

Everett tried to snap off a twig from the tree that grew beneath his window. It yanked out the entire bottom branch instead, one almost as tall he was. He stumbled under the sudden weight of it, the branch tipping and thwacking him on the face.