A soft yet subtle smile crept onto Shadow’s dark muzzle as he watched Sonic walk beside him. Their hands were intertwined, warm even through the chill that hung in the air. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the gray sky, settling on Sonic’s quills and melting almost as soon as they touched the blue fur.

Sonic didn’t seem to notice—he was too busy talking, words spilling from him in that carefree way Shadow had grown so used to.

Sonic rambled about everything—about Tails’ latest invention, about how good the chili dogs had been earlier, about some old race he’d won years ago. It was chaotic, jumbled… but it was Sonic. And Shadow didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it.

He loved the way Sonic’s eyes lit up when he talked. He loved that laugh, the way it broke through the cold air and somehow made everything around them feel warmer. He didn’t need to say anything back—he just wanted to listen. To feel the sound of Sonic’s voice.

Sonic’s words blended with the crunch of snow beneath their boots, and for a moment, Shadow thought maybe—just maybe—peace wasn’t such an impossible thing after all.

“…Mhm… what was that last part again?”

Shadow’s voice broke the gentle rhythm, low and smooth. He tilted his head slightly toward Sonic, a rare softness in his crimson eyes.