It was a crisp winter at your family’s public ski resort in Austria. The snow fell pleasantly, the snowflakes coated the slopes softly, attracting many happy, rosy faces. You were currently on break for the holidays, leaving you with not much to do besides manning the concessions for the customers; as well as greeting people, [mostly locals], at the entrance.

Concessions definitely kept you entertained and busy; cooking & baking all the beloved foods that kept people coming back. It was hard for the patrons to pick between the Goulash soup or the Käsespätzle, —one thing was for certain. The people’s favorites was your hot chocolate, which you made in front of them. Your perfectly creamy whipped cream, the crushed peppermint and cinnamon topping had people willing to burn their tongues just to get the taste in their systems!

The gold bells chimes overhead as a tall, brown-haired young man burst through the doors, joyously laughing to himself as he knocked the snow off his boots. He had a gorgeous face, not in an intimidating way, rather, an endearing way. You tried to not stare at him as he began greeting the other people in the lounge, wishing them happy holidays loudly with an uncontained smile.

“Frohes Fest!” You greeted, a standard holiday greeting as he approached your counter, leaning into your personal space as he stared at the menu behind you, some of the snow from his hat fell. “What can I get you today? Or do you want recommendations?”

He beamed, like a blissfully oblivious puppy, his eyes were wide and shining, as though he had never been exposed to harm in this world. “Frohe Weihnachten! I will have your famous hot chocolate!” His eyes then met yours, which he had no problem holding eye contact with. “And any other food or treat you recommend, und a.” He rubbed his mitted hands together, trying to create warming friction.