Hot Cocoa and Snow Shovels // A Mumford & Sons Fanfic

Hot Cocoa and Snow Shovels - Oneshot

It's been snowing all day long. Ever the good husband, Marcus has been out shoveling. Well, correction: Carey forced him to go outside and shovel the driveway. Marcus was groaning the whole while he was dressing in warm trousers, a hoodie, and rugged boots.

It was too cold out, he complained. Cold and wet and rainy (from all the slush) and not to mention the fact that it was still snowing. Ice was everywhere. "Do a little bit now and a little bit later," Carey said to him.

"You're lucky you're off the hook," Marcus shot back with a soft laugh and a mock-stern look before plodding outside. And now he's out in the middle of the driveway, snow shovel in hand whilst he works away, a flock of sheep watching him and occasionally bleating, as it to show their amusement. He's been at it for an hour or so already and he's barely made a dent.

Carey's been inside, cleaning up their house and hanging up a few wreaths and things. Decorating the tree as well. Anything that needs doing. She loves decorating. She has herself a peek outside, frowning as she sees Marcus hard at work. Poor man, she's thinking.

Off to the kitchen she goes, putting a pot on the stove to boil some hot cocoa for the two of them. He could probably use it. It's better than a cup of tea, anyway. Although, not much is.

Not twenty minutes later she's coming outside with two styrofoam cups in hand, each with a good amount of hot cocoa and mini marshmallows inside. She'd bundled up in her husband's denim coat, a sweatshirt of his that she's drowning in, as well as donning a scarf and a beanie to keep her ears warm. She'll help him shovel a bit, she'd decided.

"Marcus," she calls to him, waiting for him to turn round to face her. Leaning on the shovel now, puffs of white, wispy breath pouring from his lips, he turns to gaze over in Carey's direction. She's wandering towards him with a sweet smile. "I brought you something warm to drink," she tells him. "Take a little break. You look as if you need it, darling."

For miles all you can see is white. It isn't very much snow, no, but it's enough to make everything rather pretty and picturesque. Marcus admires it all for a moment, breathing deeply, before turning to reach for the styrofoam cup. Something about his footing isn't right and he slips on the ice beneath them, going down hard and fast.

He lands on his bum, howling in pain and doubling over. It's all quite amusing and it leaves Carey in tears. She's suddenly laughing her arse off at her husband but before she can catch herself, she too is tumbling over. Karma, Marcus is thinking with a pained laugh, a hand rubbing his achy arse.

Hot cocoa goes everywhere, staining the ground a faint brown colour and causing the ice to steam. Carey's groaning, Marcus is laughing now. "That's what you get for laughing at me," the latter says with a snicker, noting the hot cocoa stain on her coat. Hopefully that doesn't burn, he's thinking.

Carey, however, isn't as amused. She casts her gaze over in her husband's direction with a look that could kill a man on sight. If anything, it leaves him laughing harder. He comes over, on his knees, and gives her a hand up before picking up the styrofoam cups. "Let's go inside," he says. "We'll come back outside later on."

She follows him, her hands rubbing her sore bum as she goes. "You aren't funny, Mr. Mumford," she tells him in a mock-stern tone. At least they're both laughing now (and not to mention cautiously wandering across the driveway to head inside their cosy house).