𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 | 𝘤. 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴

thirty seven. a dead man's epiphany

"What are you two doing?" Michonne stepped further out onto the porch, her arms folded across her chest in a desperate attempt to stay warm.

Carl and I laid back and faced the storm-ridden sky. Single particles floated downwards through the cold air, creating an odd illusion as it sprinkled against our faces. Small ice crystals seemed to swell in my lungs with each breath in, then melt against the lining of my chest as I pushed air out from my lips, leaving a trail of blooming fog.

"Showing Judith how to make snow angels." His arms drug up through the snow, then back down to create wings.

I followed his actions. We made quick eye contact, and he grinned at me before focusing back on his imprinted angel. As I swiped my own legs out and in the powered white, I thought about blue. Despite the snow, the previous blue was all my mind held onto. The eye that had just seen me; pale blue. Carl's. Then above us, a very small red tinted bird lowered its wings, and nestled into the tree which now let down bits of white misted-dust. This snow glittered above us, falling down from the covered branches.

After that, I let my mind slip away from the color. I sunk my body into the earth below me, and let my lips curl into a grin as Michonne sighed. "Are you kidding? She can barely walk on her own."

I raised my head ever so slightly. Carl looked to Michonne brightly, then to his baby sister. "Yeah, but she can still watch."

A laugh pressed from my throat, and I propped myself up onto my elbows. "It might burn into her subconscious, you never know."

Michonne took a seat on the porch's white rocking chair, her hands automatically placing themselves on the arm rest, and leaning her head back against the frame.

"Sure, she'll be a pro by next winter." Joking sarcasm was heavy on the edge of her tongue.

Michonne rose up from her seat as Judith eventually let out a babbled cry, then picked the child up and pressed her into her warm chest. She gave us a quick look to make sure we weren't against her taking the baby back inside to warm her, then proceeded back up the steps.

She looked at us, twisting the knob and stepping inside. "Eugene says a storm is rolling in. Don't stay out long." The door closed.

As I began lowering myself back into the soft snow, an extremely cold, hard object hit just above my ear. I placed my hand on the frozen crystals of snow gliding down my head, my mouth gaping as I turned to Carl with a startled look. My brows furrowed at him.

"What the hell, Carl? We agreed not to throw snow."

Carl turned to face me. "What?" He was playing dumb, and it aggravated me.

A soft laugh came from behind him, now. We both looked up to face Enid, who was pressing another mound of snow into her palms. I turned to Carl, realizing he really hadn't thrown the snow. He seemed equally put off by this gesture, while the girl behind us smiled. Her brown hair was flowing out of a green beanie, folding on her shoulders against a thick knit black sweater. She had laced on heavy duty boots, and her skin was brushed with a chill. The tip of her tongue swiped over her chapped bottom lip, as if the cracks were bleeding with violent delight.

Packing another ball tightly, she tossed it at Carl and smirked as it splat against his unzipped jacket.

"Gonna let all this snow go to waste?" She asked the two of us.

Carl got up first, then helped me. "Hell no."

I walked with both of them through the heavy blanket coating the cobbled streets. Even as we finally reached the main gated area, my hand remained in Carl's, like the weather had frozen us together. Neither of us paid much mind — or questioned this. This kind of affection was new, but not frightening. It had developed so gradually and soft that it was an instinct which felt completely and utterly natural. Innocent touches, pure happenings. It felt right. It wasn't always like this, but it had been as of recently. I liked the way his skin felt against mine; even just his hand. Everything about his essence was warm, contradicting my own body temperature. This was why it took me a moment to realize I had to let go, if we were going to be tossing snow at one another. At first, he seemed a little apprehensive about letting go, too. Eventually however, we had forgotten all about it, and had been trudging around in the blistering cold, throwing white packed spheres around while the flakes began falling down at a much faster rate.