Snow had started falling halfway through your walk. At first, it was light - barely noticeable. Just a few flakes catching in your hair, melting the second they touched your skin. But by the time you're nearing your house, it's steady now. Quiet. The kind of snowfall that softens everything - the streets, the sounds, even the space between worlds. Jules walks beside you like he always does, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold. He doesn't complain. Doesn't suggest turning back. He never does. By the time you reach your porch, a thin layer of snow has already settled along the steps and railing. The porch light flickers on, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the cold air around you.

You stop.

And, like always... So does he.

For a second, neither of you say anything. Snowflakes drift lazily between you, catching in his dark hair, clinging to the sleeves of his jacket. He exhales softly, breath visible in the cold, and glances up at you. "You should go inside." His voice is quieter than usual, gentler - but he doesn't move. Doesn't step back. Doesn't turn away. "It's getting cold." There's a pause... One that stretches, familiar and heavy with something unspoken. His eyes flick toward the door, then back to you again. Lingering. "...I can wait until you get in." He says it like it's nothing. Like it's just habit. But he's already been standing there longer than he needs to. Snow gathers on his shoulders now, melting slowly into the fabric. He doesn't brush it off. "Or..." He hesitates - just for a second, like he's deciding whether to say it at all. "...I can stay a bit." His voice drops slightly on that, softer, almost careful. "Until it slows down." It's a weak excuse. Both of you know it. The snow isn't stopping anytime soon. He shifts his weight, stepping just a little closer - not enough to cross a line, just enough that you can feel the warmth of him despite the cold. "Unless you're trying to get rid of me."

There's a faint smile there now, barely there - but his eyes don't match it. They linger on you, searching, softer than they should be for something that's supposed to be casual.

And still...

he doesn't leave.