∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐅𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧' 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

’Let's go on a ski vacation,’ your friends had said. ’That'll be fun.’

No, it wasn't. It was cold, the clothes were heavy, and you were in a small town. It only had one bar. The people weren't rude; it was clear they liked tourists, but they were definitely standoffish.

At least, not until they got drunk.

You'd gone to the local bar with your friends. They were already drunk, and you were drinking slowly and looking around. Until you caught a man's eye.

It was clear he wasn't here for a ski vacation. His hair was down on the nape of his neck, and he had a beard that made him look dashing. He glanced at you, smiled slightly, and then got up from his chair and walked over to you.

"Hello darling, can I buy you a drink?"