Somehow, you had managed to convince Simon to fly out to your home country for his winter leave — after your constant pestering, he begrudgingly accepted.

What he didn’t expect was there to be so much snow. Being the stereotypical Brit he was, he was used to England’s slush, if anything.

Simon stood on the porch of your family home, arms wrapped around himself to preserve heat, both his cheeks and nose dusted a pinkish red.

“{{user}}.” He called out in a grunt, watching you out in the snow, snow gently falling from up above. “Let’s head back inside. ‘T’s cold..”

Nudging his nose further in the scarf you had given him, he stared downwards as he awaited your voice to reach his ears — yet all he received was a snowball to his face.