˚ ༘ˀˀ ꒰‧⁺ 𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚘𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 ✎ˀ

ˋˏ ༻☘️ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ☘️༺ ˎˊ

Words-1077
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They always loved looking out of the opened window, the soft particles of frozen water fluttering down like fragile beings lost in the big world.

The small snowflakes fell like nothing was between them and the floor, the barrier we call the air seems like nothing to them, calming dripping onto the floor.

The cold air touched the curious poets soft cheeks. He was wrapped in a blanket, admiring the snowfall happening outside of their enclosed apartment.

"Seems nice huh?" The detective asked, the poets eyes glancing towards the other.

"They're so delicate." He spoke, the small pieces of almost glass fell to the ground, gathering into a layer of cold snow.

"Like glass?" They both spoke in synchronization, chuckling amongst themselves.

"You seem cold, it's getting pretty chilly out there." The detective spoke his concern, his eyes glancing out of the opened window, the sky filled with wrapping clouds and stretching breezes, fueling with shards of snow and rainfall.

"It is cold, but I enjoy it. It looks so peaceful." He smiled, his eyes following the falling snow, his smile only growing by time.

"I can make you something if you'd like." The detective spoke, trailing his feet away from the poet, his hand touching all the sweets resting on their counter top.

"Some hot chocolate would be nice." The poet suggested, his eyes glued to the open window in front of him, being in a trance from the outside nature's.

The detective nodded, pulling out a mug. It was covered with small flowers, painted beautifully. Every petal looked delicate, the colours mixing together.

He took out a kettle, beginning to boil some water; placing it onto the stove. A packet of chocolate powder rested on the table top, right next to the mug in the detectives hands.

His eyes kept crawling back to the poet, his lips forming into a soft smile. He enjoyed the brunette's company, feeling safe in the presence of the one he loved. Every happy memory replayed in his mind, a bigger smile spreading onto his face, his eyes shining.

He walked back over to the poet, sliding down to sit by him. The detective leaned onto the brunette, feeling the eyes on him he glanced up; the brunette staring at him.

"You want attention?" The poet asked him, chuckling softly to himself.

The detective only nodded, cuddling into the brunette's side, pulling the piece of thick fabric surrounding the other around both of them, only pulling the two closer.

"I love you~" the detective spoke softly, smiling the brightest. His smile held so much yet nothing at all. The smallest gestures seemed to affect him stronger than anything ever could. The biggest smiles come from the smallest moments. The moments that he'd never forget. The moments that will cause more memories. Memories that flooded his head like a ship sinking. Yet the sinking felt peaceful, falling slowly to the bottom of the ocean. The dark depths having so much to explore.

The sizzling of the burning kettle brought the detective back to his senses, getting up and running towards the kettle, like a bomb was about to go off.

He took it off the stove, pouring it out into the mug; followed by the sweet powder. He stirred it into the burning liquid, forming a cavity inducing chocolate liquid. The detective plopped in some small marshmallows, floating on the top of the hot liquid.

He brought it towards the other, attempting to not burn off his own fingers; he held it at the handle even with the mug basically overflowing with a sweet drink.

The blackette set it down on the coffee table right behind the poet, pulling his fingers away; swaying them in the cool air to remove the sting of the burn. He had a dramatic expression rested on his face, a pout hanging on the bottom of his lip; glancing down at the cozy poet.

"You good there?" The poet chuckled softly at the other. Shining hearts glazed over his gray eyes. The look of love covered his entire expression. He was lost in thought, the smile of the detective replaying like a short movie in his head. He smiled to himself, the image of the blackette being his happiest while they're together only made him feel grateful for a beautiful person. A person he'd be able to share his life with. A person that he could rely onto. A person that he loved.

"I'm alright." The blackette chuckled to himself, sitting nearby the other, cracking the back of his neck. He glanced back at the poet, a jumpy aura surrounding everywhere he went. He tilted his head towards the brunette, watching for his reaction towards the 'homemade' hot chocolate he prepared for the other.

"Is it good?" The detective asked, clasping his hands together for a verdict.

"It tastes like.."

"Like?"

"Like hot chocolate."

The detective clapped his hands together, his expression reading like he won a reward. "I'm so smart."

"You poured a packet of powder into hot water-"

"Exactly."

"You review crimes as a job and that's the hardest thing you've done?" The poet asked, raising an eyebrow at the infamous detective in front of.

"Yep." He said, laughing at himself, the poet eventually joining in.

They spend a joyful time laughing and chatting up with each other, the detective making jokes about himself. It ended with him wheezing at a joke that he said, holding his stomach while laughing.

"UGh that was hilarious." The detective spoke through his deep breaths. He looked up at the poet, his entire body now on the ground.

"You really crack up at the things you say huh?" The poet asked, chuckling to himself.

"Because I'm funny."

"Sure."

"I am." The detective spoke, sitting up, his smile wider than ever. He loved the time he spent with the poet. The minutes feeling like seconds. The hours feeling like minutes. The days feeling like hours. Time flew by while he smiled and created happy memories with the poet.

"You sure are."

The detective leaned onto the poet, his hands snaking around the other; pulling him into a soft hug.

He glanced down at him, his hands now around the poets neck; staring down at him. He leaned in, the poet pushing closer to him. The blackette only teased him, pulling away before any contact happened.

"You jerk-" the poet muttered, glaring at the blackette.

"I'm your jerk~"

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