Monthly Bonus Content #2: 'Fluffier than Snow' (Waiter Version) (Patreon)

[Alternate Text: An image of a snow drift. 'Fluffier than Snow' acts as the title in a wavy font.]

[This piece features Mal, fluff, and cool weather I’m certain some of you might be wishing for. 😌]

[Also, you'll notice that Mal uses a particular nickname and drink  selection for this MC; it's mainly due to dialogue flow. :D If this  scene was in Book Two, I'd be able to better tailor it to your Returning Visitor! Same with one other exchange, although I feel many of you will appreciate the sweet gesture. All of that is to say: Yes, tailoring the series writing to your MCs will always be on my mind so you have immersion and fun while in Fernweh! I hope you enjoy it. ⛄ 🌲]

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"Here's your set," Alina declares, handing you a box. "I also brought up some silverware too!"

"It should have fine cutlery," Ruby notes. "While the chalet has not been used in decades, there were once galas here. We have standards…"

Alina jokingly rolls her eyes at Ruby's comment once the Verner heir scoots past with her bag in hand. You're lingering by the car to help unload, though it's turned into shuffling in place since you have yet to get used to the temperature drop while atop one of Fernweh's taller mountains. It's downright nippy! You exhale, seeing your breath softly billow out in a fine, white cloud. "So, what is this…?" you ask.

"Hopefully, a way to stop any arguments," Alina explains. "People get extra touchy about their hot drinks when it's freezing out, trust me."

Now, you're further curious about the box. You pause creating a stack of luggage for one of the others to retrieve; instead, inspecting your gift. Well, your 'argument defuser'. A plastic window lets you see that two cups are nestled inside. One is a vibrant red with white polka dots, while the other is white with red polka dots. They are shaped uniquely. When together, they form a heart with the seam right down the middle, each lobe acts as a cool rim.

"Thank you," you finally say, touched by her gesture. "These are perfect."

"I was going to get Becca and me the puppy one, but there's something about only drinking out of half of a dog that wouldn't be right, so…" She taps the box, smile turning mischievous. "We stuck with a flower scene. I got you and Mal this one. He'll want dibs on the red one, not that that's shocking when his wardrobe is—Hey!"

A snowball weakly impacts Alina's back, not at all compact and closer to a bundle of slush, but   it worked since her comment has been overtaken by playful annoyance. You don't get a chance to locate the projectile's source when someone—no, your someone—sidles up next to you without a word. The grin on Mal's face says more than enough when Alina whips back around to see him with you.

"Are you challenging me to a snowball fight?"

"No, I'm challenging you to get inside before the next round of heavy snowfall," Mal easily counters Alina's eager question. "The storm is forecasted to break, then we can go outside."

"Then I can make you look like a snowman…"

"You can try."

Alina seems placated by the postponement, stooping down to grab some of the piled bags before turning back to the path. You've yet to venture much farther than the car, but there's a decent walk up to the Verner chalet. You move to reach into the car again when Mal intercepts you, matching how your arm extends so his is just above yours, hovering with a long reach given his tall height. His palm settles over the top of yours, arms also aligned, before he gingerly tugs you back into a hug from behind.

You're tucked close with him securely around you, providing a warmth that you could melt into despite the snow blanketing the area. A gentle weight rests on your shoulder, his chin, though it's soon displaced when Mal leans in after your hands settle on his arms. His faintly spiced soap adds a different kind of warmth to the hold, reminding you of the cinnamon gum he favors, except the body wash is more evocative like a holiday memory.

"You're cold, Lambkin," he murmurs. "And I lack a cute, little fleece jacket for you, so let me handle the bags, unless you'd like to protest…?"

His breath faintly tickles your neck from how close he is, making your shoulders rise at the charge of this moment. Mal knows exactly what he's doing. His lips grazed your cheek ever so slightly while he teased you, but now he places a kiss along where your jawline meets your neck, a juncture that soon receives more dedicated attention. Is he trying to leave a mark while also intentionally leaving you at a loss for words? "I thought you disliked cheaters," you breathlessly point out, not sounding half as mock-indignant as you'd like.

"Is it cheating if I'm using something to my advantage? No," he counters. "Not really."

You can feel his silent laughter in the subtle quake that goes through him when you turn your head to catch his eye. Mal simply smiles back, unconcerned when he wants you warm and safely inside. "We can take the next load together," you suggest a compromise. "Deal?"

"You drive a hard bargain…"

Mal places one last quick peck on your cheek, flashing a pleased grin at the surprised blink you give his speedy action that was still sweet.

"…But you already know that," he concludes. "I do have one request"—Mal carefully shrugs off his signature red leather jacket—"for you then."

He presents it to you, only moving back the bare minimum amount of distance to show off the silky lining of the jacket. It isn't meant to trap in warmth, but the leather shell will help keep the wind at bay. More importantly, it's very special to Mal, and you could use another layer over your ribbed sweater and the insulating, thermal undershirt Ruby got you. It will be perfect. The soft look you direct at Mal likely says as much because he's shifting to help you slip it on, carefully guiding your arms into the sleeves. His leftover warmth seems to wrap you in a continual hug, while his spiced scent puts you more at ease. It's perfectly his.

Mal's hands gather the lapels of the collar before he straightens out the jacket's front with a careful precision by following its track of zipper. The backs of his knuckles lightly skim over your body in the process, which may or may not have been intentional. He's so intent on getting you bundled up that it's hard to say, even going so far as to zip you up. "Thank you."

Mal says nothing in response to your gratitude, but tilts his head some when he meets your eyes again.

He once told you that you never need to thank him; obviously, you're still going to do it anyway.

"You could always use the accent zippers to whack someone," Mal remarks. "If needed."

The sleeves have zippers along them as an added metallic detail. You adjust them up with care, smiling faintly to yourself. "I doubt I'd want to 'whack' anyone here. I'll keep it in mind," you lightly reply. "We should head in."

Mal illustrates his agreement with your idea by gathering more bags than you would expect him to be able to manage at once. Your pile is dismantled in under a minute, leaving you with Alina's gift and your own small backpack. Now, you can lock your car. "Are you sure about—?"

"Yes," he breezily interjects. "They're more cumbersome than they are heavy, don't fret."

The gray waffle shirt Mal's wearing highlights his toned build, defined muscles working to balance the weight of the bags. Really, you'd think he should have on another layer; the chilly air doesn't seem to faze him much. It takes you a second to realize you're hitting the lock button twice on your key fob until your car's chirp sounds more incessant. "All good."

The two of you begin the walk up to the Verner Chalet.

Snow crunches underfoot, more powdery than it is icy in most places, although you can see how some areas are heavily blanketed in white. Fernweh proper only has a light dusting. You're marveling at it as you cautiously pick your way up the path. Footprints left behind from the gang provide markers for your own feet, except they will be covered with fresh snow within minutes while this front passes through. It should dissipate, breaking up into weak bands.

The radio signal became spotty halfway up the mountain; the weather broadcast went with it.

There's a faint incline to the path that's heavily overshadowed by towering evergreens with this trail notched into the rock face. The chalet must be set on an overlook. Your eyes deviate between watching your step and getting a better glimpse of the looming structure that has an A-line roof and interesting shingles.

Mal softly whistling distracts you until you see why; a cardinal bird returns the tune. It's a male based on the blood red plumage that sticks out against the snowy bark of a pine. The bird flits to a lower branch, inquisitive as it chirps again.

"You could be in a Disney movie…"

Mal's lips thin, no longer faintly pursed to whistle before he narrows his eyes at you.

"That's typically a Disney princess's ability," you continue in an affected tone of innocence. Only you have a chance at teasing him. "Alina agrees, so does [Dog Name]."

"It's sometimes a dangerous thing when the two of you agree," Mal light-heartedly retorts. "I don't think I'm royal material. I—" He stops short when the cardinal hops even closer to where you both are. "He probably likes the shiny bits on my jacket. I wish we had seed."

"There might be something up at the chalet like dried fruit," you reassure him. "Ruby prepared it for all of us. She tends to overpack and plan." You were given an exhaustive preference sheet to fill out in preparation for this weekend getaway. Your likes, dislikes, when you get up, what you snack on, what type of sheets, and so forth. "Possibly over-plan, but it comes from a good place—a caring one."

"…I didn't do my sheet preference thing…"

"Mal," you emphasize his nickname. "Why not?"

"There were too many tiny boxes to fill in," he reasons. "I'll just have whatever you're having: [cookie flavor], [diner meal], hot chocolate, roasted—"

"This isn't about my favorites, but yours," you gently interrupt him. "Your tastes matter."

Mal seems to consider your sincere comment while the two of you continue to walk with the cardinal coasting from branch to branch. You do peek at him on occasion until the trees begin to thin, falling away to reveal the land claimed by a huge structure that could be found in the Swiss Alps. The traditional, A-line style of the steep building makes it act as a mountain constructed by man, hewn wooden beams on display along with intricate woodwork along every eve and window. They must have used some of the timber cut down to make space for it. Its shingles are unique, curved with a ruffle to appear almost scale-like due to how they lay across each slope of the house.

Despite being up on a mountain for decades, the original paint for the accents endures. You notice the ebony shutters on either side of the many windows that dot the chalet. There are likewise wooden balconies across, if not around, the levels to encourage people to take in the staggering mountain views. No wonder winter galas were once held within the chalet.

You glance away from it when the wind picks up into a chilly gust, likely because you're less protected by trees now. Mal notices, shifting in his stance before taking the lead. You follow beside him, but still peer up at the roof line.

"I'll make you some hot chocolate once we're settled in. I brought some mini-marshmallows."

'Some' translates to an entire bag considering how you like your hot chocolate that Mal still insists on fixing each and every time. "You packed for me?" you clarify, trying and failing to match his efficient gait to get in front of him. He slows down for you only when you're both by the front door beneath an overhang that's closer to an alcove due to its flanking statues.

"I somehow doubt you specified how you take your drink to Ruby," Mal casually replies. He sets down the bags in a neat pile, rolling out his left shoulder for a second despite how it's unnecessary. "There's a difference between milk chocolate shavings and semi-sweet when dealing with a drink that's already on the sweeter side. I'd rather you enjoy everything you can…"

His trailed off sentence is almost as telling as how he glances away to reach for the fancy doorknob, breaking eye contact. There was much more to what he said. The use of 'can' was faintly worrisome. Now, you're the one intercepting him, joining your hands in a hold that causes him to go still until you give him a one-armed hug.

"You're sweet, you know."

Mal's expression grows less reflective after you say that with an unshakable certainty, melting.

"…Not as sweet as your hot chocolate."

His comment is undermined by the kiss he presses to your forehead, a silent 'thank you' for bringing him back to the present moment.

The door swinging open ruptures it.

"—could've gotten lost!" Becca half-exclaims before she turns to see you both. "Oh, hi…"

"They only would have gotten lost in each other!"

Ruby's smart quip comes from deeper in the chalet, but you know it's about you and Mal, which is why Becca awkwardly smiles as she glances between the two of you.