Palaces out of Paragraphs

Chapter 1

"John, wait!" Alexander yelled weakly after his friend, knowing at this point, it would be useless to try and chase after him. He was too far ahead. John's boots went deep into the crunchy, fresh snow, but he still ran as fast as he could. Alexander looked frantically at him, trying to figure out which way he was running, but realized the obvious: John was too clever for that.
He zig-zagged through trees, making it impossible to decipher where he would go next. Alex glanced at the ground and saw a blue ribbon, soaked by slush. He picked it up and stashed it in his pocket, knowing that John would want it back later. And when he looked up at the trees again, his friend was nowhere to be seen.
He supposed John would return to camp soon. After all, what had happened was no big deal. However, the hours ticked away, and by the time the sun began to set and the soldiers ate a meager dinner of broth and pine needle tea, he was still gone.
Alexander approached any soldier he saw, asking if he had seen his comrade John Laurens. The answer, though differing slightly in choice of words, was always "No, I have not seen your friend today."
Snatching a bowl of warm broth to bring John, he set off into the trees, trying to recall which way he had gone. Left, right, left, left, right... The path John had taken was complex, but with effort, Alexander could remember the foundation of it.
However eager his was to find the missing soldier, he took his time on the walk, reflecting on the events of the morning.
I had said something. I don't recall exactly what, but I do know it was vaguely flirtatious, or at least sounded to be so. John's cheeks turned a startling shade of pink, and he froze up. Then, he leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It wasn't much, just a little peck. It lasted for a millisecond, and John pulled away. There was a panicked look in his eyes. For a moment, we were silent. Then, he said through heavy sobs, "I-I should go." And he ran into the woods. As he glanced back at the cabin, I could catch glimpses of tears on his cheeks.
And there he was. There were ice crystals on his cheeks where a constant stream of tears had frozen in the cold. Specks of snow covered his coat, and he was weeping. Without a ribbon to hold it back, his hair framed his face in a pathetic manner. Alexander approached him, only to be greeted by a "just leave!".
"I'm not going to leave, John. It took long enough to get here. You must be chilled to the bone!"
He handed him the bowl of soup, which was no longer very warm. John's tears hit the broth as he sipped it, making it saltier with every sob.
"Come on, let's get you back to camp. Everyone's been worried about you."
Alexander helped him up from the snow-covered ground. "But-"
"Aren't you mad about this morning?" Another fat tear dripped down his face, followed by another. Soon, he was crying uncontrollably again. Alexander couldn't respond to this without hurting him or making him weep even heavier. He stood silent for a minute when the answer came to him.
"Of course not! This morning was positively splendid!" "Splendid?" "Yeah! We had more rations than usual, and the sun shined a little more than yesterday. And the snow didn't drip through the cracks in the roof!" John was evidently confused. Had he forgotten about the events of the morning?
"You know," Alexander smiled. "It was so splendid that I wish I could experience it all over again."
He pulled John into a kiss. All the cold of the winter was replaced by a warmth that started at his lips and spread throughout his body. Time seemed to stop, but their hearts beat only faster. As the moment ended, Alexander realized they were both blushing furiously. And John did, too.
"WE NEED TO BLUSH LESS! Maybe we could rub snow in our faces...?"
"John, that'll just make you blush MORE."
"Oh, right."