𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳? ⇢ ʙʏʟᴇʀ

swing set

Within a matter of seconds, Will had gone from completely chilled, fingertips flushing a vicious pink from the direct contact with the snow, to enveloped in a warmth he never wanted to be released from. At the sound of someone calling his name, Will hadn't bothered to move for several seconds as though he expected the voice to just go away. He thought maybe he was imagining things, the panic that was coursing through the blood in his veins causing him to hear voices he knew very well were not there. But as the crunch of footsteps grew closer, what had been a slow tread quickly picking up into a light footed jog, Will knew he couldn't have just been hearing things. As Will pressed a hand deeper into the snow to push himself up onto his hands and knees, he nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand grabbed at his shoulder, drawing him back into an embrace that gave his frigid nerves only a second to relax. 

The familiar scent of pine and cinnamon greeted Will's senses like an old friend, and even if only for a moment, he felt calm. Drawing back from the embrace just as quickly as they'd entered, the being spoke.

"Will? Are you okay?"

Through the familiar ring the voice held, it dawned on Will just who was standing behind him. In the moment, he had nearly reached up to slap at whatever was grabbing him, throat prepared to let out a childish shriek. Will twisted around and fell back onto his butt for only a moment, ignoring the snow that sent chills up through his light coloured jeans as he gazed up into the familiar set of chocolate brown eyes staring concernedly down at him.

Will's vision, black dots framing his sight like the view was somewhat picturesque, settled on the boy in front of him, the pounding heart beat inside of his ears beginning to slow, or pick up? He wasn't exactly sure. He knew he should feel a bit embarrassed for the predicament he appeared to be in, but in that moment, Will was soothed by the sight of him.

Blue had one hand on his left knee, half covering what Will imagined was a tear in the knee of his corduroy pants from extensive wear, or being a bit too careless while out biking. His hair was tucked behind his ears hastily, not keeping well as the dampness from the snowflakes falling down upon them brought a subtle curl out in the boy's hair. He was wrapped up inside a warm looking tartan winter coat, crouched down slightly so that he could look Will directly in the face as he surveyed him like a concerned mother, hand still clamped onto the boy's shoulder.

As Will stared directly back into Blue's face, he could have sworn the freckles on his cheeks had gotten darker from the cool air. It took Will only a brief moment to realize he had been holding his breath, tears still dotting his cheeks relentlessly.

"I'm oka—" Will had begun to respond, his voice a raw croak like he'd been suffering a sore throat for weeks. He knew it was only from crying all that morning, and that only made him more embarrassed. He imagined he must have been lit up like Times Square at that point. Before he had a chance to finish his reassurance, Blue's grip on his shoulder eased.

"Your face."

Will's gaze tore away from Blue the moment he saw the boy's eyes change, the light that seemed to dance around his gaze shifting to something of brief anger, even hurt. For a moment, Will had thought with great surprise, Blue had looked like he might cry. His thin jaw squared as he tensed, staring directly into Will's face as his eyes danced across the soft bruises that tinted Will's cheeks. Will had opened his mouth once more to assure Blue that he was, however untrue the statement was, okay, and that he would be entirely fine as long as they got back to Blue's home and into about 30 layers of blankets.

"I—"

Before Will could continue his sentence once more, he was choked off by the sudden touch of warm fingertips against his upper lip. He didn't have the heart to wince from the subtle flicker of pain, practically able to feel his face flooding with a hot, pink blush.