His lips still rang fresh of the taste of hot chocolate; though long had it been since he’d held it. The newly settled snow framed a picture aglow with the pride of so many Christmas cards, but weak were the smiles to be had. Cold air biting at his chest was a sharp opponent for the fire at his back, yet neither stood a chance against the internal combat.
The year was drawing to an end now. Soon all the quaintance would be forgot, the calendar would reset, and everything would go on. And all that meant to him was the sands in the hourglass were running out. Soon the reaper would come to collect its due. Winter berries stained in sickly crimson and shapely ice to mark the fallen awaited him.
She stirred from her visions of sugarplums, barely aware of the extra space next to her until oceanic orbs caught view of troubled brow. He did not hear her approach so much as silently pine for it. Cold hands ensnared his thought laden back and her beating heart echoed in his chest like a stone skipping off waves. With but that touch, the future took its seat behind the curtain. It didn’t matter right now. Everything that had become his world now encircled him.
And she still tasted like the hot chocolate.
My entry for this week’s Free Write Friday from Kellie Elmore. There were a lot of words to choose from to stir the mind, and I did not use them all. But some of them simply would not fit the image this season wishes to paint for me.
I hope you all enjoy!