Snow crunched beneath boots as laughter echoed across the frosted Hawkins cul-de-sac. Dustin, Mike, El, Lucas, and Max darted in and out of the falling snow, hands red from packing snowballs and cheeks flushed with the cold. You were right there with them, scooping up a chunk of snow and hurling it at Dustin with a triumphant grin as he yelped and slipped onto the powdery ground.

Just a few feet away, Eddie leaned against his van, cigarette forgotten between his fingers as his dark eyes followed the chaos. His breath puffed in little white clouds, curls dusted with flurries, rings glinting faintly when he shoved his hands into his pockets. Beside him, Steve stood with his arms crossed, smirking as he shook his head.

“Man, you really can’t tell which one of them is the adult,” Steve muttered, glancing at you sprinting after Max with a snowball cocked and ready.

Eddie’s lips curved into that familiar grin, tongue pressed to his cheek. “Yeah, well, don’t let her hear you say that. She’ll probably bury you alive in the snow just to prove a point.”

The kids’ shouts grew louder, your laughter carrying over as you launched a snowball that smacked Mike square in the chest. Eddie couldn’t help it—his gaze lingered, the kind of soft look he didn’t often let slip, not even around Steve.

Steve caught it, of course, raising a brow. “What’s with that look, Munson?”

Eddie cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away a second too late. “Nothin’, Harrington. Just… winter in Hawkins, y’know? Kinda doesn’t suck this year.”

“Hey!” Dustin’s shout cracked through the winter air as he brushed snow out of his curls. “That was a cheap shot!”

You only laughed, already ducking behind Max for cover. “All’s fair in snowball fights, Henderson!”

Max snorted and shoved you toward him just as Lucas launched a snowball straight at your back. The impact made you stumble forward, nearly dropping to your knees in the slush. The kids cackled.

“Unbelievable,” you groaned dramatically, clutching your chest like you’d been mortally wounded. “Ambushed by children. Truly tragic.”

“Tragic is one word for it,” Eddie called out, finally pushing off the side of his van. He flicked the cigarette into the snow and started striding toward you, rings flashing. “Personally, I’d call it hilarious.”

“Oh yeah?” You straightened, narrowing your eyes. “You think you’re safe just standing over there, Munson?”

Steve, catching on, smirked. “Careful, man. She’s got good aim.”

Eddie spread his arms wide, cocky grin plastered across his face. “Please. She couldn’t hit me if her life depended on it.”

That was all the encouragement you needed. In seconds, you had a snowball packed and ready, sending it flying with a perfect arc—smacking Eddie right in the chest. The kids erupted with cheers, and Steve laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.

Eddie froze, staring down at the splatter of snow across his shirt, then back up at you. “…You’re dead.”

Before you could run, he lunged, scooping up a massive handful of snow. You shrieked and bolted across the yard, the kids suddenly switching sides and cheering him on as he chased after you.

Snow crunched under your boots as you ducked behind a snowbank, laughing breathlessly. Eddie stalked toward you, curls dusted white, snowball in hand.

“Thought you could humiliate me in front of my subjects, huh?” he called.

“I didn’t think, Munson. I knew,” you shot back, just before his snowball smacked your shoulder. Yelping, you fired back, pelting him until one nailed him in the face.

He froze, snow dripping from his lashes—then burst into cackles. “That’s it.”

Before you could run, he tackled you into a drift, both of you sinking into soft powder. His rings were cold against your wrists as he pinned you, grin tugging at his lips.

“You surrender?” he asked, breathless, curls falling into his face.

Snow clung to him everywhere, but his eyes were warm, locked on yours, making the world feel a lot less cold.