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When Lucas wakes up, it’s to complete darkness and Eliott shaking his shoulder, rustling him out of his peaceful sleep.
“Lucas!” Eliott whispers excitedly, “Baby, wake up! It’s snowing!”
Lucas grumbles under his breath, turning over in bed to face a smiling Eliott, leaning over him, already bundled up in a scarf and a coat.
“Eliott, what?”
“It’s the first snow of the season, we have to go see it! Just for a few minutes. Please?”
Lucas rubs at his eyes with his fists, trying to keep an even tone despite his annoyance at being woken up past three o’clock in the morning. “Eliott, it’s so fucking cold outside. We’ll freeze to death.”
“Not if you put on a scarf. Cmon, it’ll be beautiful. Just for a few minutes.”
The next thing Lucas knows, he’s slowly swinging his legs off the bed, forcing a small smile in Eliott’s direction as he shrugs on one of Eliott’s coats and grabs a hat to pull over his bed head.
It’s not that Lucas doesn’t like snow. Snow is fine, it’s pretty. And he’s pretty sure he would follow Eliott on a tightrope over a sea of lava. It’s just the whole middle of the night thing Lucas has issues with, involving years of childhood trauma and never getting a full night’s sleep because his parents were too busy screaming at each other most nights.
So, Lucas really prefers to not be woken up in the middle of the night to see the snow when he could easily see it in the morning.
Eliott loops his arm through Lucas’ and opens the door, and the freezing winter air hits Lucas in the face, making him suck in a breath. He snuggles in closer to Eliott’s side, struggling to cover the tip of his nose with his scarf.
The look of wonder on Eliott’s face as he looks at the falling snowflakes should be giving Lucas’ stomach butterflies; his shining eyes, his amazed smile, not to mention his cheeks are dusted with pink from the chill. But no, Lucas is frustrated. He knows how much joy Eliott finds in little things like falling snow, but Lucas can’t say he’s the same. He doesn’t get anything out of watching freezing water fall from the sky, especially not when he should be sleeping. No matter how beautiful and enchanting his boyfriend may look.
“Wow, it’s so quiet,” Eliott says softly, “I love this kind of silence. When it’s so quiet, you can almost hear the snow falling.”
Maybe because everyone else in Paris is asleep, Lucas thinks to himself. He doesn’t say it out loud, just squeezes Eliott’s arm tighter.
Eliott leads them around their block, past the café where Lucas has spent many afternoons cramming for exams, past the art supply store, and past the small boutique that used to be Eliott’s second favorite book store.
“Do you want to sit?” Eliott asks, nodding his head towards a nearby bench on the sidewalk.
“Sure.”
They sit, and Eliott sighs contentedly, removing his arm from Lucas’ to wrap it around his shoulders instead, and Lucas watches his breath leave his lips in white hot puffs. Even through the thick coat, Lucas can feel Eliott rubbing his finger in circles on his shoulder.
Lucas stares straight ahead at the other side of the street, feeling drowsy and yet alert at the same time. He hates this time of night; everything is dark and sad and uncertain.
“Are you okay?”
Eliott looks at Lucas with concern in his eyes, after sitting in complete silence for a few minutes.
“Yeah,” Lucas replies flatly, darting his eyes back and forth between Eliott’s gaze and his chest. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Eliott insists gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Maybe it’s the softness in Eliott’s tone, the way Lucas knows that Eliott would never judge him for any of his emotional baggage. Or maybe Lucas is just so damn tired he doesn’t care about how stupid his issues might sound.
“Well,” Lucas starts cautiously, keeping his eyes on Eliott’s chest, “you know how shitty everything was with my parents, right?” Eliott nods. “Yeah. So, when I was a kid, basically from the age of eight until I moved out, I would be woken up at least three times a week to the sound of them fighting. I would never be able to get back to sleep, it was horrible.” Lucas can see Eliott’s expression shifting through his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t look up. “So through all of that, I basically just started to associate the middle of the night with anxiety and fear, and sadness. And stuff.” He says the last part in somewhat of a rush, finally looking up to Eliott, who has tears building in his eyes.
“So I just try to avoid being awake in the middle of the night. That’s all.”
There’s a beat of silence where neither of them says anything.
“Lucas, I’m sorry,” Eliott whispers, his hot breath, warming Lucas’ shivering face. “I didn’t know. God, I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have dragged you out like this, I’m sorry.”
“Eliott, no,” Lucas insists, cupping Eliott’s face gingerly with his cold hands. “You didn’t know. You couldn’t have possibly known, it’s not like I ever talked to you about it. It’s okay.”
Eliott covers Lucas’ hands with his own, and Lucas watches as a single tear rolls down his cheek. “But…is it still like that? With me? Am I making it worse by waking you up? Oh god, Lucas, I’m so—“
“Eliott,” Lucas interrupts, “don’t apologize. This shit is deeply rooted in me, that’s not gonna change any time soon. Actually, I think every time I wake up in the middle of the night and it’s you there, instead of my parents, it helps.” It’s not a lie. “I’m sorry I was grumpy before. I don’t want you to think you can’t wake me up to watch the snow together, because I love that about you.”
Eliott smiles, and he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Lucas’ lips. His lips are freezing, but Lucas doesn’t care, clutching Eliott’s face tighter and humming into the kiss.
“So,” Eliott says once he’s pulled away slightly, “should we go back home?” He says it somewhat carefully, now that he’s aware of Lucas’ aversion to all this.
Lucas pauses for a moment, but then grins, wrapping himself around Eliott’s arm, snuggling close to his side. “We can stay for a little while longer,” he decides, nuzzling his cheek into Eliott’s arm. “Let’s watch the snow fall. It really is pretty, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Eliott whispers, pressing a kiss to Lucas’ forehead, “it’s beautiful.”