Dedicated to @Sarey33. I hope this makes you smile.

You opened your eyes.

Frost covered your bedroom window like intricate silver lace, and the golden light of morning made it sparkle and glow. You sat up on your elbows and gazed out at the street. More than a foot of snow had fallen, blanketing the earth in unblemished white, and it was still falling, drifting, floating. The bare trees drooped under the weight of the flakes resting on their branches. The neighborhood Christmas lights shone brilliantly in the gray light of morning, sending tidings of warmth and happiness to the families huddled in their homes as they waited for the storm to pass.

A pulse of joy coursed through you. Michael would be so excited.

You looked at the curly-headed bundle lying beside you. He didn't stir. You were relieved. You would have hated to wake him up early on a day when he could sleep in. You checked your phone. Are you kidding me? You screamed in your head. They haven't canceled classes yet?!

You were disappointed, but not surprised. Your university had a reputation for staying open, even in the craziest weather. Apparently, those in charge of the school believed their students could handle anything. Unfortunately, they never considered the troubles of commuters like you, poor students forced to drive to school through hell or high water.

Or a blizzard.

You rolled out of bed, careful not to move the mattress too much. You tip-toed to Michael's side. He looked perfectly peaceful, nestled under the soft covers. His hair fell in curls over his face.

You wished you didn't have to leave him, but if you lingered, you would be late. You kissed his head, put on your slippers, and glanced at him one last time before heading downstairs.

Your Christmas tree glowed spectacularly in the living room, brightening the shadowy house. It lifted your spirits, if only for a moment before you carried out the rest of your morning routine on autopilot.

Soon it was time for your least favorite part of winter weekday mornings: bundling up. You shoved your feet into your snow boots, put on a sweater, then your puffy coat – the one that made you look and feel like a marshmallow. You pulled on wool mittens and a hat and wrapped your scarf around your neck what felt like ten times. When you finished, only your eyes were left exposed. You breathed an annoyed sigh into your scarf, opened the door, and stepped out into 20 degrees Fahrenheit (-6.7°C).

A thick layer of ice covered your car, windshield, windows, everything. Your arms ached as you worked to scrape it off. Your hands were numb in minutes. "Damn," you sighed, and tried to rub your fingers back to life. "There's no way I'm making it to class on time." You still had to shovel your driveway to free your car, and already you wanted to give up.

Thwack!

Something compact and ice-cold hit the back of your head. You gasped as snow slipped into your jacket and down your neck. "Cold, cold, cold!" you cried. You shook your head and then your whole body and jumped all around, but it only made the problem worse. There was nothing you could do but wait for the frozen crystals to melt against your back. In the meantime, you investigated. Where the hell did that come from? Maybe the snow fell from a tree branch and hit you. You looked up, but there was only sky above you. What the...?

Wild laughter filled the air. You whipped around.

Michael stood on the front lawn, knee deep in snow and bundled up in his winter gear. He picked up more snow and packed it into a ball.

"Don't you dare!" you said.

Michael hurled the snowball at you. You dodged it like a ninja, and it smacked against your car window, exploding into frosty, fluffy pieces.

"I just cleared that off!" you said. "You're gonna pay for that!" You reached down and grabbed a fistful of snow.

Michael laughed and tried to run away. Silly Michael, it's impossible to run in that much snow. You hurled the snowball as hard as you could. It hit him square in the back, and he cried out and fell to the ground dramatically. He lay there in the snow, defeated.

You ran to him and stood, towering over him. "Gotcha."

Michael didn't move a muscle.

"Oh, come one, I didn't hit you that hard." Still, he didn't move.

A little worried now, you crouched down. "Michael?"

Michael's eyes shot open. He sprang up and thrust an armful of snow into your face. You shrieked and stumbled backward. Michael laughed so hard he fell onto his back. He rolled around in the snow, howling.

"Why you little!" you snarled. You pounced on him and punched his chest, which, of course, didn't hurt him because you were both covered in layers of puffy cushion. The two of you wrestled, laughed, and tried desperately to chuck snow at each another.

"Timeout!" Michael cried, but you weren't falling for that one. "Timeout, (Y/n)!" he shouted again, panting.

"You can't call a timeout! This is war!" you said.

"But you're going to be late for school!"

You plopped your padded butt in the snow and blew hair out of your face. "They're crazy if they think I'm driving in this weather."

Michael's eyes widened. "You mean you're not going?"

"Heck no! I have a snowball fight to win!" you said, already standing and packing another snowball.

"Yes!" Michael shouted. He scrambled to his feet and tackled you. He lifted you off your feet and spun you in the air.

Yep. Definitely the right choice.

He set you down, brushed himself off, and put on a serious expression, but you could still see a twinkle in his eye. "No more hugging," he said. "From now on, we're enemies."

You smirked. "Bring it on."

The two of you rushed to opposite sides of the lawn and built high walls and dug deep trenches in the snow to protect yourselves from each other's attacks. You went to work making as many snowballs as you could, and in minutes you had a pile of ammunition at your side. You grabbed a snowball.

"Fire!" you shouted. You launched it towards Michael's fort and he screamed. You peeked over your snow wall and watched it hit, and when it did you made an explosion noise.

Michael chucked a snowball at your fort. You gasped. It was going fast. You ducked just in time, and the remains of his snowball rained down on you.

The two of you chucked snowballs until you thought your arms would fall off. After the two of you had been at war for a half an hour, you collapsed in the snow, breathing hard. In the silence, you could hear Michael panting from across the lawn.

"I surrender!" Michael said.

You sat up and peeked over your snow wall. He was waving his scarf in the air in submission.

You stood and thrust your fists to the sky. "Victory!"

Michael abandoned his fort and met you in the middle of the 'battlefield.' He rubbed his sore arm. "I only let you win, because, you know, I got tired."

"Sure, you did," you said, pinching his arm.

He chuckled and offered you his hand. "Truce?"

You shook firmly. "Truce."

You both laughed until you lost your balance. You bumped into each other and laughed some more. Then, with a deep, blissful breath, Michael raised his arms at his sides, smiled at the sky, and fell backward into the snow with a soft poof. You fell beside him.

Your breath billowed white and misty into the frigid air. Falling snowflakes, weightless and cold, tickled your face. The world was perfectly silent, so hushed you could hear each snowflake as it landed. No voices, no clamor of the morning commute, not even a bird's song. Just stillness and the sound of Michael's restful sighs. The silvery earth matched the hue of the sky so well, you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

You imagined you were in a giant snow globe, lying there beside the love of your life in a perfectly peaceful winter wonderland. You looked at Michael. He stared up at the gray sky. His dazzling brown eyes seemed even darker against the snowy backdrop. Snowflakes gathered in his long, dark eyelashes. He grinned.

You could have stayed there forever, just staring.

You breathed a happy sigh and closed your eyes, but you opened them again when you heard Michael move. You watched as he fanned his arms and legs out and brought them back in, fanned them out and brought them in.

"Snow angels!" you cried, and you flailed your limbs in the snow to make your own. Michael laughed.

When the two of you finished, you stood and admired your masterpieces.

"Beautiful," Michael said.

"Aren't they?" you said. The still-falling snow caught your attention. You put your hand out to catch the icy flakes and frowned. "But they'll be buried soon."

Michael wrapped his arms around you, swayed gently, and kissed your cheek. He whispered in your ear. "You're the only snow angel I need."

Your face reddened, but not because of the cold. You smiled up at him. "I guess that makes you my snowman."

You clutched his jacket and tugged, pulling him closer and closer. A shiver ran down your back as your lips met his. His kiss was warm, so warm and lovely and sweet that you forgot the chill in your limbs, the numbness in your toes. You felt so safe, so happy. You drew apart and smiled up at him, your breath white and misty and rising.

Michael brought his thumb to your bottom lip. "Your lips are cold."

You hugged yourself. "Everything is cold."

He rubbed his arms. "I know what you mean. Wanna go inside and warm up?"

You nodded, so the two of you made the trek back to the house, walking close together, like penguins.

When you got inside, every inch of your body seemed to sigh with relief. So warm. Michael shut the door quickly to stop the cold from flooding in, and the two of you began the long process of undressing. You yanked off your gloves first, then your hat. You unraveled your scarf, letting it fall in a heap on the floor, and tugged your snow boots off. Finally, you pulled your arms out of your coat. Michael, freed from his winter gear, took one look at you and broke into a fit of giggles.

"What?" you said. "What's so funny?" You looked and felt all around until...ugh. Your hair was a knotted mess. All that wrestling and rolling around really took its toll. Michael's hair was messy too, but somehow it still looked flawless. You sighed and headed for the bathroom. "Give me a second. I gotta take care of this."

"Take your time," Michael said. He was still giggling.

You raked a brush through your tangles, wincing and cursing under your breath. It took forever. You emerged from the bathroom, hair brushed and wet with snowmelt, more tired than you were before. You called for Michael, but he didn't answer. You looked around, but he was nowhere to be found. You walked into the living room. "Michael? Oh, there you are-"

Your mouth fell open.

Michael was seated on the couch, surrounded by blankets he likely grabbed from the bed, in front of the roaring fireplace. The room was dimly, romantically lit. The rainbow lights on the Christmas tree shone brilliantly and filled you with childlike wonder. Two mugs of hot chocolate waited on the table in front of the couch, steaming and topped with mountains of whipped cream.

Michael smiled big and bright. "Surprise!"

You took a few more steps into the room. "Michael . . . you did all this?"

"For you."

"I love you so much. You know that, right?"

Michael chuckled. "I love you more." He patted the cushion next to him. "Come on. You can pick out a movie." He turned on the TV, mounted on the wall above the fireplace.

You sat down and covered yourself with blankets. You chose (your favorite holiday film), and Michael played it, but you didn't pay much attention. You were both preoccupied with your hot chocolate. You tried to take a slow, cautious sip. It was scorching hot. You gave a little cry. Michael snickered.

"What happened?" he said. "Too hot for you?"

"It's hot as hell," you said.

"It can't be. I made it twenty minutes ago." He picked up his cup and took a sip. As soon as the cocoa touched his tongue, his eyes widened and he spluttered. When he took the cup away from his mouth, he had a whipped cream all over his upper lip. You cackled.

"You've got something right...there," you said.

"What?"

"A white, fluffy mustache. Don't worry. I'll get it." You leaned forward and kissed him. The whipped cream tasted sweet, but not as sweet as him. You pulled away and laughed. Michael looked completely caught off guard. You wiped the remaining whipped cream from your lips and licked it off your finger. "Delicious."

Michael lunged and kissed you again. Your turn to be surprised.

Long story short, neither of you paid attention to the movie.

As the credits rolled, your hand found his under the blankets, and you interlocked your fingers. You rested your head on his shoulder, and he rested his head on yours. He played with your hair as the two of you admired the tree.

"Don't you just love Christmas?" Michael said. "The lights, the love, the laughter. It's magic. Too bad it only happens once a year."

You were silent for a moment, then you smiled. You snuggled closer to him. "With you, every day is Christmas," you said.

And Michael smiled.