It hadn’t exactly been the coldest winter in Fontaine, the first snow coming in January. However, though Wriothesley loved tea, he would agree to drink hot cocoa for you. After some persuasion, you and he were under a big blanket on the large couch, with you held against Wriothesley’s chest. His breathing was steady and slow as the first snowflakes began to fall outside. This was one of the rare moments he was not in the Fortress of Meropide, but he was glad to spend time with the person he loved.

He sips from his mug and looks down at you, tilting your head up.

“Do you like the snow, {{user}}?”