It's Okay. Snow-body Knows… (Mason Christmas/Winter Special) (Patreon)

“This is taking too long,” Mason groans, huffing out a breath which turns to a puff of white cloud as soon as it leaves his lips. He has his shoulders bunched around his ears and his jacket collar turned up stiffly around his neck.

Apparently he’s too cool to dress weather appropriate.

Though to be fair, I’m more than dressed for the freezing temperatures and my fingers still feel like they could sink the Titanic.

“How long do you think they’ll be?” I ask, trying to stare through the bleak winter darkness and the trees ahead.

He shrugs. “No idea. Not long, if we’re lucky.”

“And if we’re not lucky?”

His gaze slides slowly over towards me and a smirk plays at the corner of his lips. “You’re with me, sweetheart/handsome. You’re always welcome to get lucky.”

I roll my eyes, but a chuckle still manages to escape me. 

The moon overhead is a sharp silver tonight, the slivers of its metallic rays slicing through the bubbling clouds that look heavy with snow.

I decide not to mention that fact to Mason, instead shifting on the spot and staring through the shadowed wilderness beside him.

But before I can find a spot to observe, a delicate star of frosty snow dances down between the stark, bare treetops above and manages to find a spot on Mason’s freckled cheek.

He shivers violently and lets out a sharp breath.

Our eyes turn skyward, where a sheet of fluffy white is hailing down from the sky.

“Shit…” Mason mumbles, crossing his arms and trying to swallow through his discomfort.

A sigh finds its way through my lips, and I shrug off my scarf and gloves. “Here.”

He stares over at me before flicking his eyes to offered garments. He frowns. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. You need them more than I do.” I push the scarf closer to him.

Hesitation freezes him to the spot for a moment until eventually he reaches out to take them. His fingers brush over mine slowly and the touch sends a plume of heat searing through every nerve.

Within a second, he’s wrapped the scarf around his neck and nearly halfway up his face. He’s shivering so badly he struggles with the gloves, so I reach out to hold them for him.

He doesn’t say anything, only slips his hands inside of them without looking at me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I yank it out and breathe warm breath on my hand to warm it up enough to make my fingers work before heading a few paces away.

With my back to Mason, I don’t see the way his gaze softens and follows me as I move away, or the way his body settles as my scent on the scarf helps calm the painful shivers that wracked his body.