In A Winter Fashion… (Nate Christmas/Winter Special) (Patreon)

“They’re chock-a-block with snow,” Nadia comments, leaning out of the store doorway to stare up at the sky.

White clouds so billowing and fluffy they look like they were drawn by a five-year old create a thick canopy above us.

I fear she may be right.

“Then I’m getting home before it starts. See you later,” I say stepping out to brave the bitter chill as Nadia nods. She shivers, shuts the door, and heads back into her cosy store.

I turn my collar up around my neck as I continue on. 

Only to almost collide with a familiar figure.

Nate smiles at me, eyes glimmering with a warmth that seems impossible considering the weather. “Good evening, Detective.”

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” I say with a smile. “How did you find me?”

“Tina was most helpful when I popped into the station,” he replies before a thoughtful frown creases his brow. “Considering your position within this town, I thought she might have been more concerned about handing out your location details, but she instead seemed quite keen on me finding you.”

I only just about bite back the comment, ‘I bet’.

“But now I have found you, may I join you?” he asks.

I nod. “Of course.”

And so, we head off across The Square, wandering down the cobblestone streets and watching as the stores begin to shut up and cosy up for the cold night ahead.

“Seems the snow Farah has been anxious for will finally hit,” Nate says, flexing his un-gloved fingers and blowing out a breath.

“I was hoping to get home before it did.” 

He looks over at me with a tilt of his head. “You don’t like the snow?”

“It’s pretty enough, but not exactly great when you have to walk through it all the way home,” I reply with a light laugh. “What about you?”

“I love most kinds of weather,” he admits.

His reply stirs a smile on my lips. “Is there anything you’re not so positive about?” 

“Probably more things than I would care to admit. But the weather is something we can do nothing about, so it’s better to find the positive in it than moan about how it simply is,” he says. 

My gaze falls to his hands, his fingers red from the chill. “You probably could have done something to help in this situation.”

He holds up his hands and then a smile forms on his expression. “There is still something we could do about that, if you are willing?”

He holds a hand out towards me, and a pulse of cheer warms me at the gesture.

With barely a moment’s hesitation, I take his hand and even the chill of his fingers can’t ruin the moment.

As we walk hand-in-hand, a snowflake sparkles against the darkening night sky, but both of us are too preoccupied with each other to even notice.