when you lost control, red blood, white snow, blue dress on a boat, your new girl is my clone

walker and his family loved skiing. every chance they got, they’d drive up to the same ski lodge in northern pennsylvania and stay for a few days.

even with all the trips, walker still wasn’t so good at skiing. he’d get the hang of it for a bit, but then lose his balance and face-plant right into the snow.

but this year, walker was determined to get it perfect.

he’d hung around the ski lounge for a little with tanner, his younger brother, sipping on a hot chocolate before heading off to the ski lift. the second walker landed on the slope, he actually managed to balance himself.

he was actually doing pretty well. he’d gotten the hang of it relatively easy, steering in all the right directions and keeping his balance steady.

he was almost convinced that he was finally going to get it perfect, but he didn’t notice a figure crouched down in the snow, trying to quickly pull their blade out from where it was lodged in the snow.

walker noticed too late, where he couldn’t swerve out of the way. he tripped and landed face first onto your back, pushing you hard, face-first into the snow. he rolled off onto his own back, letting out a small groan as his ribs ached—that was definitely gonna leave a bruise later.

he propped himself on his elbows, trying to gauge the situation when he saw a girl—you, the pretty one who he could’ve sworn he’d seen around the lodge before—trying to push herself up off the snow with a wince, her nose dripping crimson droplets on into the white snow. shit.

“hey, you alright?” he asked, pushing himself up with a light grunt. he gently hooked his arms under your shoulders, grasping your upper arms and gently dragging you up and back out of the snow.