Thawed - ToMatt

1

(Published 9/2/17)

Winter.

The best time of the year. Hot drinks, thick clothing, small spurts of holly giggles and sometimes even snow. It's the greatest excuse to cuddle, the absolute best time to go out. Anyone except for the man who grumbled "ba humbug" would enjoy this time of year.

The soft shimmer of a bell rang through the air, causing the young man's breath to tighten. He looked up from the cotton-white layer of ice that had fallen the previous night and saw a man dressed in red. Holding a bell and wearing a jolly smile, he grinned and waved at near passerby's.

Tom let out a sigh, which caused his breath to collect onto the frosted glass. Staring at the small droplets, he held his hands together patiently. It was that time again. That time where everything was cold and everyone was just oh-so happy. He wouldn't say he hated this time of year, but he knew he disliked it.

How could anyone be so happy when it was so cold?

Snow collected onto the mailbox and a thin layer of crystal ice had crept its way to the porch steps. Dark green-blue paint chipped off the sides of the building the man called home, for it'd not been painted in years. The outside looked ugly, but what was on the inside counted the most. When stepped into, the wooden boards creaked under the soft gold and red mat. The scents of old paper and candles wafted behind the burning firewood. Crackling throughout the dimness it did, flames licked at the logs as if they were a fresh popsicle from the freezer. The dark but warm atmosphere complimented the scent and look of the interior. Books and stray papers stacked upon a glossy blue glass table. Adjacent from it was a green sofa chair, the cushion only slightly sunken in from the previous uses. Tom wasn't much of a reader, but when he had spare time he liked to do so and pass it by. Everything was dark and quiet, almost too much of both, but that's the way he liked it.

Soulless eyes scanned the room, another sigh escaping the warm lips that had once thrown cold, harsh words. His parents probably would be coming this year. Hopefully they wouldn't bring along their complaints concerning the absence of a wife. He hated the way they nagged, but their minds would never even acknowledge the reason behind his situation. He wouldn't exactly call it a "situation" itself, but the way his parents viewed it to be, however, it was. "A twenty-five-year-old without a wife or even a college degree is just absurd! Where is that smart boy I raised?"

He didn't want a wife. He didn't want to go to college. He didn't think of himself as being smart. Although it'd be decent to go to school again, he simply didn't want to. Something was holding him back. Something was tugging him farther from that opportunity and closer to another. It was the only thing that made him feel warm. The only thing that made him feel loved, appreciated and wanted. He looked forward to that little something that took a major role in his life.

That little something soon came as a soft knock on the door.

He jumped, not at the sound, but at the realization of whom it could be. Tom smoothed out his sweater and glanced at his reflection in the glass window. He took a breath before opening the door. Cold rolled into the warm house and blew on his face. He blinked the cold away from his eyes and looked forward. Flecks of snow settled in soft ginger hair. It smoothly combed upward to match a pair of icy blue eyes as freckles dotted underneath and drowned into a rosy red. A cute button nose was tinted pink from the cold and a small pearly white grin fitted underneath. "Hey!"

His face softened and his dark eyes lit up. He gave a soft "hey" in return and carefully ushered the shivering ginger inside. "I thought you were my parents for a second there." He chuckled, settling the other down into his pale green chair. "I have some tea ready, want some?" He offered. Matt gladly accepted, nodded his head and thanked him. Tom walked to the tiny kitchen just beside the living room, leaving Matt by the toasty fire.

"I came as soon as I could but," he looked out the window to the cold white abyss, "I got stuck in the snow for a bit there." He grinned sheepishly as Tom stepped forward and handed him a small cup of steaming tea. "Thanks again..." He shivered as he spoke and gripped the cup with his mittens. "Anytime." Tom took a seat in the floor next to the chair Matt was in, crossing his legs and staring at the fire.

The two were silent for a few minutes. Matt set down his now empty cup to the table and hummed. "Today was an eventful day." He chimed tiredly. "Everyone wanted the old novel that was released like, five years ago," he rolled his eyes, "'wonder what's up with that." Tom glanced at his stack of old books; that had reminded him he needed new ones. "Speaking of books." His dark eyes flicked up to meet Matt's, "I finished the ones you brought me." Matt turned to look down at him, "Really?" He smiled. "What's your favorite?" Tom blinked as he now stared at the crackling fire. He thought for a moment before he slowly spoke, "The Notebook, I guess." Matt's smile only grew, "That's one of my favorites too."

The silence overcame the two again. All was inaudible, save for the cracking wood of the fire and nearby barks of a dog outside. It was a comfortable silence. So comfortable that Matt had drifted to sleep on the chair, curled up into his winter attire. Tom smiled at the sight. He grabbed a blanket, one that had been sitting in a basket in the corner of the room for ages. It was worn but still soft to the touch. He draped it across the ginger's sleeping form.

"Sweet dreams, Matty."