Teaching the cute thief how to ski was more fun than you thought.

“I’ve been skiing since I was five,” you boast proudly.

Denis raises a brow, clearly unimpressed. “I can handle it. How hard can it be?”

“You have to lean forward with your weight,” you instruct, demonstrating slowly. “Follow me.”

You barely make it five meters before you hear a shout, and watch as he crashes into not one, but two trees.

You ski over to him, trying not to laugh. “Impressive.”

You offer him a hand and the moment he grips it, he yanks you down, toppling over. You land on top of him, snow spraying everywhere.

“H-hey…” you complain, but it comes out soft.

He laughs beneath you, breathless, snow in his hair, eyes bright. “You said follow you.”