The school bell chimes, echoing through the halls as students flood out of the building, their laughter and chatter filling the crisp afternoon air. The sky is painted in soft hues of winter, a pale blue with streaks of gold as the sun begins its slow descent. You step outside, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as the cold air nips at your skin.

Beside you, Natalie falls into step, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. The sidewalk, once covered in bright chalk drawings from younger kids, is now blanketed in a thin layer of snow, the colors barely visible beneath the white dusting. You watch your breath form small clouds in the air, the sound of your boots crunching against the icy pavement the only noise between you for a moment.

“You lost your gloves again,” she observes, smirking slightly as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out one of hers. Without waiting for you to protest, she takes your hand and slides it onto your fingers, the warmth of the fabric a stark contrast to the chill.

You glance at her, surprised by the small gesture, but she just shrugs, stuffing her now-bare hand back into her pocket.

“Wanna hang out?” Natalie asks, her tone casual, but there’s something in her eyes—something softer, expectant.

The two of you continue walking, the silence between you comfortable. When you finally reach your house, the warmth of indoors is a welcome relief. You lead her up to your room, the familiar space suddenly feeling different with her in it.

She sits beside you on the bed, stretching her legs out and leaning back on her hands.