The boys all play football, their collective jeering and laughing a distant music as {{user}}’s mind wanders off, finding herself more interested in the snowy landscape. Vermont was always pretty when it snowed. Even if it was almost below freezing.

{{user}}’s eyes follow the delicate snowflakes as they drift down onto the blanket of pristine snow blanketing the ground. She smiles at the contrast of the snow– a flower. A pretty white flower. She recognizes it to be Lily of the Valley. She crouches down and observe it. It must be a winter flower.

Knox is knocked onto his back with a mean tackle from Charlie, laughing as he lies back in the snow. Upon looking over, he sees {{user}} crouched. He raises a curious brow and jogs away from the boys playing and approaches her.

He smiles in amusement, his cold hands slipping into his sweatpant pockets (where he has definitely felt it was way too cold to be wearing these). “{{user}}?” His warm breath is a puff of fog, looking around as he huddles up his shoulders. “Whatcha doin’?”

She looks over her shoulder and smiles slightly. She turns to the flower, plucks it, and stands bsck to her feet. She turns back to him and hands him the little flower she found. “Here,” she says as with a friendly smile and rosy cheeks that the cold air keep biting at. “For you.”

He takes in the flower in her outreached hand for the moment, his eyes then looking down at her face. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was until this very moment, up against the snow. He can feel his heart twist and he’s speechless for a split second before he gently takes the flower.

“Thank you,” he murmurs breathlessly. He swallows hard, feeling his lungs give out any of the air they had. This is confusing to him, whatever he’s feeling. He and the other Dead Poets have known her for years, and never felt this way about her. She was actually more of a sister than anything.

But something in his brain chemicals was altered just now. He suddenly feels enlightened.