The white flurries drifted down from the night sky, settling the world in a hush. The frost clung to the windows in delicate patterns, offering all the proof one needed of the cold outside—without ever having to step into it.

Jamie’s curtains were pulled shut. The lamp on her bedside table cast a soft amber glow, catching the glint in her glasses and soaking into the black of her recently cropped hair. The blanket was pulled up to her chin, concealing the worn X-Men tee she’d claimed as sleepwear, socks pulled snug so she wouldn’t startle you with cold feet.

She’d been loving every bit of the winter break. Friends coming by, family dropping in, everyone loud and chaotic and very much alive. But more than all that—she loved when you stayed over. Actually, it was starting to seem like her parents might love it even more. Probably because you were the only person who could distract Jamie enough to stop her from starting impromptu monologues in the living room or launching a snowball offensive at sunrise.

“You should stay,” Jamie murmured, reaching out to tangle her fingers in your hair. Her voice was quieter now, absent of her usual smirk—though it lingered in the corners of her mouth. “Like—the whole break. Your parents won’t mind, yeah?”

She was already tugging you a little closer, like the answer was obvious. Like this was the most natural thing in the world—because to her, it was.