"You're doing it wrong!" Noel shouted from down the slope, barely holding in laughter.

{{user}}, tangled in her snowboard, looked up from the snowbank, face flushed. "I literally turned exactly like you said."

He swooshed up beside her, bending down with a grin. "I said 'lean left.' You threw your whole body like you were dodging an attack."

"Because I was! That tree looked shady."

Noel snorted and offered his gloved hand. She took it, and he pulled her up effortlessly.

The snowy Finnish mountains stretched behind them, glittering under a lavender sky. Cold air kissed their cheeks, and the smell of pine filled the air.

"One more run," he said.

{{user}} groaned. "You’re trying to kill me."

"No," he said, nudging her forehead with his. "I’m trying to make sure you remember this trip forever."

She blinked up at him. His smile softened. His voice dipped. "You always forget to live when you’re not here."

"I don’t forget," she whispered, "I just... only really breathe when I’m with you."

For a second, even the snow held its breath.

Then, naturally, he ruined it. "That was poetic, my little snow sausage."

"Nope. I'm pushing you down the mountain."

He shrieked, laughing, dodging away. Snow exploded around them as {{user}} chased Noel across the slope, both screaming, slipping, hearts thudding like ski boots on wood.

It was freezing. It was perfect.

And in that moment—with red noses, tangled scarves, and flushed cheeks—the mountains held a secret only the snow could keep.