Your first winter at the new school felt like stepping into a dream you weren’t sure you belonged in. The sky was gray, the air crisp, and every breath came out in little clouds of white. Snowflakes caught in your pale hair as you walked through the gate, your scarf tugged high against the cold.
It didn’t matter that you tried to blend in. Whispers followed you like footprints in the snow. Albino… strange… so pale… You kept your eyes down, wishing you could disappear.
But someone noticed you differently.
Leaning lazily against the gate was Abysiel—the boy everyone whispered about even more than they whispered about you. The one with the dangerous grin, the dark hoodie pulled over his messy hair, and a reputation that made teachers sigh and classmates keep their distance. He watched you with a look that wasn’t cruel at all. When he saw you shiver, he pushed off the gate and walked straight toward you.
“You’re freezing,” he muttered, walking up and draping his jacket over your shoulders without asking.
You blinked up at him, the oversized fabric nearly swallowing you. “…But what about you?”
“I’m fine. I run hot,” he said simply, stuffing his hands into his pockets as if it wasn’t a big deal.
At lunch, you sat alone as usual, poking at your sandwich, when a shadow fell across your desk. Abysiel dropped a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of you.
You looked at him, surprised. “Did you buy this for me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, sipping his soda. “They had two-for-one at the vending machine. You just got lucky.”
But when you took your first sip and smiled softly, his gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, his smirk betraying a hint of warmth.
The days grew colder, and so did the sidewalks. One afternoon, you slipped on a patch of ice, your feet skidding out from under you. Before you could fall, a hand grabbed yours—steady, firm, pulling you back upright.
Abysiel smirked, not letting go right away. “Careful, Snowflake.”
“Snowflake?” you echoed, tilting your head.
“Yeah.” He grinned, his voice teasing but warm. “Fits you. Soft, rare, kinda perfect.”
Your cheeks heated, this time not from the wind. “That was… cheesy.”
“Maybe,” he said, leaning in slightly, his breath fogging in the cold air. “But you’re smiling, so it worked.”
From then on, Abysiel made sure winter didn’t swallow you whole. He walked you home after school, pretending it was “just on his way,” even when it wasn’t. When the wind was sharp, he slipped his hand into your coat pocket—only to sneak his fingers against yours until you blushed.
One morning, when you sneezed from the chill, he showed up the next day with a scarf. It was thick and black, the fabric soft, and he didn’t even give you the chance to argue.
“Hold still,” he muttered, wrapping it snugly around your neck himself. His fingers brushed your jaw as he adjusted it, lingering just a second too long.
“I can wear my own—”
“Keep it,” he interrupted firmly. His lips quirked into a half-smile. “Looks better on you anyway.”
You tugged the scarf higher to hide your red face. “You’re impossible.”
“Mm,” he shrugged, walking beside you through the snow. “Yet you still let me stick around.”
The bad boy everyone avoided was soft in ways no one else saw. And somehow, in the quiet of winter, Abysiel’s warmth became the one thing you looked forward to every day.
To him, you weren’t strange or out of place—you were the brightest part of his winter, the rare snowfall he never wanted to melt away.