The first snow fell silently over Harvard, covering the courtyard. You were already sitting by the window this morning, watching the snowflakes dance. Mark was in the room, behind his laptop of course, apparently completely immune to the beauty of winter. "Mark, look how beautiful" you said, looking at him "hmm, yeah" Mark didn't look up from behind the computer

Finally, you somehow convinced him, maybe it was just your mood that stuck with him, maybe he secretly wanted a little relaxation too. He was standing in the snow in a coat and hat, a little tipsy, now you were already having a snowball fight in your hand.

"You won't..." The snowball hit his shoulder. He looked at you, brushing the snow off his shoulder.