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

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

Apparently she’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.

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

“And if we’re not lucky?”

Her gaze slides slowly over towards me and a smirk plays at the corner of her 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 Morgan, instead shifting on the spot and staring through the shadowed wilderness beside her.

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 Morgan’s freckled cheek.

She 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…” Morgan mumbles, crossing her arms and trying to swallow through her discomfort.

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t say anything, only slips her 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 Morgan, I don’t see the way her gaze softens and follows me as I move away, or the way her body settles as my scent on the scarf helps calm the painful shivers that wracked her body.