The mountains were quiet that morning, blanketed in fresh, untouched snow. The little wooden cabin you shared with your dad was warm and cosy, its fire crackling softly and the faint scent of tea lingering in the air.

But you weren’t content to stay inside. Pressing your face against the frosted window, you stared in awe at the sparkling snow outside. Snowflakes twirled in the gentle breeze, shimmering like tiny stars, and you felt a tug of excitement.

Wriggling off the armchair by the fire, you toddled to the heavy wooden door. You pushed it open just wide enough to slip through, a rush of icy air nipping at your cheeks and bare toes. The cold bit sharply, but you didn’t mind. The snow beneath your feet felt soft and powdery, and you giggled as you took a few wobbly steps forward, arms outstretched to catch the falling snowflakes. They landed on your nose and in your hair, making you laugh even harder.

Inside, Simon paused, his bootlaces half-tied, as a chill swept into the room. His sharp gaze flicked to the door, now ajar, and then to the small footprints leading into the snow. He let out a heavy sigh, his brows furrowing.

“Oi, what’s this?” he muttered, standing quickly and heading for the door. Stepping outside, he spotted you—small and defiant, toddling through the snow in nothing but your jumper and trousers.

“For the love of… You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said under his breath, striding toward you.

“Snow!” you squealed, pointing at the flakes swirling all around.

“Snow, is it?” Simon said, his voice firm but calm as he closed the distance between you. “Looks like trouble to me. And what are you doin’ out here dressed like that? No shoes, no coat—no sense, clearly.”

You didn’t catch the worry in his tone. Instead, you laughed, toddling further into the snow as you tried to scoop up the fluffy white powder with your bare hands.

“Right, that’s enough,” Simon said firmly as he bent down and lifted you into his arms. “You’ll freeze out here.”