Charlie insists on finding the hill.

Not just any hill. The steepest one he can manage without someone yelling about broken bones or common sense. You trail after him through the snow, boots crunching, breath fogging in the cold as he drags the sled behind him like he’s on a mission.

“This one,” he says at last, eyes bright, grin dangerous. “Perfect.”

You glance down the slope and feel your stomach flip. It’s long. And fast. And definitely steeper than anything you’d normally agree to.

Charlie laughs when he sees your hesitation. “Trust me,” he says, already dropping the sled into place. He sits down first and pats the space between his legs. “I’ve survived dragons. This’ll be fine.”

You sit, heart pounding, and the moment you settle, his arms come around your waist, solid and warm through your coat. He leans in close, chin brushing your shoulder.

“You ready?” he asks, voice already laughing.

“No—”

Too late.

He pushes off, and suddenly you’re flying.

The world blurs into white and dark trees as the sled rockets down the hill, wind biting at your cheeks. You gasp, half laughing, half screaming as the speed steals your breath. Charlie whoops behind you, laughter loud and uncontrollable, his grip tightening instinctively as the sled jolts over bumps.

You can feel his chest shaking with laughter, hear him shout something incoherent as snow sprays up around you. Every twist sends you closer to him, his chin brushing your shoulder as he leans with the sled.

By the time you reach the bottom, you’re both breathless.

The sled skids to a stop, and before you can even catch your breath, Charlie shifts his weight and suddenly you’re flipped sideways into the snow with a soft thump. Cold seeps through your coat as you laugh, staring up at the grey winter sky.

He’s on you a second later, bracing himself on his arms, eyes bright and wild.

“You alive?” he asks, grinning.

You barely get the chance to nod before he leans down and kisses you, deep and breathless, stealing what little air you have left. Snow melts against your skin as his mouth stays on yours, warm and sure, like he’s trying to chase the cold away entirely.

When he finally pulls back, foreheads pressed together, he laughs softly.

“Worth it,” he murmurs.