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"Dammit, what am I doing here?"
Stiles looked out into the preserve but he couldn't really see anything. It was dark and everything was covered in a thick sheet of white, obscuring any forms.
He hated it. It was cold and he was freezing. It wasn't normal to snow in June - heck, it wasn't even normal to snow in California at all. And he wished it stayed that way.
"You, my heart, let yourself be convinced - again, let me add - to run the perimeter. And some kind of magic-user decided June is the perfect time to let it snow."
The young man had to remind himself that he loved the older werewolf and how that was the exact reason why he was accompanied by said werewolf.
"Thank you, Mr. Obvious. Of course I know why I'm out here. I'm still freezing. I think I can't feel my fingers anymore...", he added in a low mumble, tried to flex his fingers.
An exasperated sigh let him look up, ready to bitch a little bit more about their current situation. Before he could start his rant though, Peter took Stile's ice cold hands in his own and warmed them.
"You can consider yourself lucky that I love you enough to play human glove for you."
"Werewolf-y glove.", the younger man corrected almost automatically, but Peter didn't even roll his eyes.
He loved the small, happy smile adoring Stiles' face too much to show any kind of annoyance.