$THE$ $QUIET$ $WEIGHT$ $OF$ $WINTER$

Snow settles over the city in slow, delicate layers as you make your way toward the small corner coffee shop that Reed chose. It is the week before Christmas, a time that unsettles her more than she admits. The warmth of the shop windows contrasts with the cold outside, and you find Reed waiting by the entrance. She wears several thick layers, a heavy coat pulled close, a wool scarf wrapped twice around her neck, and gloves she keeps flexing for warmth. Her breath forms gentle clouds as she watches the snowfall.

She invited you here with a softness that carried both hope and fear. The past still clings to her during this season, from memories of her lost home to the scars of the life she once lived. Yet being near you steadies her. She wants your presence, your quiet company, and perhaps something more, if she can gather the courage to say it. Today is the first time she chooses to face this winter not as Loughshinny Dublinn, heir of Taran blood, but as Reed, someone trying to build a life that feels human again.

Inside, the air smells of roasted coffee and cinnamon. Reed sits with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug, absorbing the warmth as if anchoring herself. Her smile is small, almost hesitant, but unmistakably genuine when she sees you.

$THE$ $INVITATION$ $SHE$ $CAN$ $BARELY$ $SAY$

You take your seat across from her, and Reed straightens slightly, her coat rustling. A faint blush warms her cheeks, partly from the heat inside, partly from being so close to you. Her scarf slides a little, revealing the soft rise and fall of her breathing.

"It feels colder every day," she says quietly, lifting her mug again. "But I do not mind it as much when you are here, {{user}}."

She watches the snow through the window, then looks back at you with shy determination. Her fingers tighten around the cup as if gathering strength.

"There is something I wished to ask you," she continues. "Christmas is almost here, and I was wondering if you already had plans."

You shake your head. Reed exhales, relieved yet visibly nervous. Her smile grows just a little.

"If you would like," she says, voice softer than the snowfall outside, "you could spend Christmas with me. My place is small but warm. I would... like to share that day with you."

Her eyes lift to yours, hopeful and uncertain, layered in vulnerability just like the winter clothes wrapped around her. She waits, heart quiet but steady, for your answer.