I Smell Snow

December 26th

"So are you excited to move to Boston? The semester starts up end of January."

I nod, a smile lingering on my face as you play with my long hair. "How about you? Are you excited for UCLA? I'm so proud of you."

You got your acceptance letter about a week ago but you didn't tell me. I had to find out through your dad. You claimed it was because you forgot. I think it was because you were nervous.

"I don't think I'm going to go", you say with a sigh.

I sit up from the couch, staring at you like you've gone insane. "Why wouldn't you? It's one of the best schools. You'd be crazy not to."

"You know why."

I shake me head at you, not wanting to hear a word you are saying. "When I fell in love with you, never did I think you'd be so pessimistic."

"I have a right," You run a hand through your dirty blond-brown hair. You are clearly aggravated.

Through the time I've gone knowing you, we always have small fights. We bicker a lot, but we never hold a grudge. I think it's important that we can fight but we can also forgive.  

"No you don't. Get up." I stand up abruptly, slipping on my light tan snow boots that I conveniently left lying by the couch.

Giving me your best puppy eyes, you say to me, "but Eva, I'm comfy and warm."

I glance at the cackling fire in the fireplace and then back at you. "Well too bad. And put on a jacket. Meet me outside."

I grab my snow jacket and slip out the door. I'm frustrated with you but I'm more determined than anything. A few minutes later your grumpy self walks outside.

You start heading to the car but I grab your hand quickly. "We're walking. It's not too far."

You properly lace our fingers together and proceed with a soft nod. We walk in silence but I know you are not mad at me because you lift my hand to your warm lips and place a gentle kiss. I scoot in closer, leaning my head against your arm, just slightly below your shoulder.

"Are we going to the cafe?", you ponder.

"Close."

We arrive a short time after, to a small park dabbled in snow. There is a bench across the street that mirrors the entrance to the cafe where you once upon a time decided to talk to me.

"Did you know, I was sitting here when I noticed you at the corner table in the cafe. You looked familiar but I couldn't pinpoint it. I really wanted to though."

"So we didn't accidently bump into each other?"

I tilt my head up towards you, shaking my head. "I walked in there. I was determined to talk to you, but you did so first."

"I'm glad I did, lumberjack."

"I am too." I smile, placing a kiss on your cheek. "I brought you here for another reason also. Did you know, I used to sit on this very bench and endlessly wonder about the what ifs in life."

"And?"

"Theodore Anderson, will you please listen to me for 5 minutes," I laugh, punching you on the shoulder lightly.

You crack a smile, "Only because you are violent and scare me".

"As I was saying, I used to sit here and worry, even fear, the things that made me excited. I almost didn't send in my application to Emerson because of my constant overthinking and negativity."

"I'm so glad you did apply, Eva. And I love you but what does this have to do with me?"

Your green-blue eyes bore into mine, curiosity practically flowing from them.

"You haven't come to terms with everything. You are fearing the what ifs, Theo", I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath, "You're sick. Only the universe knows how long you have left. I could die today or 70 years from now. You could die today or years from now. Don't take that hope away from me, but please, you've never come to accepting terms with your illness. Don't lie to me or yourself".

As I finish, I can feel your hand tremble in mine. I'm scared to look you in the eyes but I do anyways. Your eyes are glossy and a tear comes rolling down your soft pale skin. I take me thumb, gently wiping it away.

"Don't say anything yet. I want you to accept your admission to UCLA. If not for you, then for me. Don't worry about the what ifs. Accept them because it's important, in order to move on. But don't let them hold you back. I don't want that for you".

"God, how did I get so lucky," you whisper quietly enough for just the two of us to hear. You are staring up at the sky with tear stained eyes. "Evangeline, do you know that I've had family and friends come up to me and tell me that I am too young to understand what love is. That I'm not mature enough to possibly fathom what true love is".

"They're wr-"

"Of course they are wrong. I'll never make it to their definition of 'mature', and if by some miracle I do, I know that I'd still feel the same way about you. I feel damn lucky to have you in my life. Maybe we are one of those exceptions of young love. I can't explain it but it feels right".

"Just shut up and kiss me", I breathe deeply after your cute rant.

You slip your hands into the large pocket of my mustard colored hoodie and tug me forward.

"Thank you, for bringing me here".

I hum in response, "What should we do today?"

"How about we be extra cheesy and recreate the first time I had the guts to say hi to you," you say with a short laugh.

"Will you buy me a hot chocolate?", I question, quirking a brow.

"Only if you buy me one".

"Deal".