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Glancing up at the sky momentarily, Sin watched the snow falling from the darkening winter sky. The weather was getting colder and colder and already they had a decent amount of snow. The dirt road leading from Sin’s family home to the main road was hard to find, having mostly been covered entirely by snow at this point. Sin didn’t traverse the road too often, and most often did so on foot when he did.
Cold gusts of winds out here were becoming more frequent, the sharpness not going unnoticed despite how little Sin usually found himself bothered by cold. He’d taken to wearing a thicker, warmer coat than he did other times of the year, hiding his lean, slender frame. He still wore all-black, however, and he’d taken to wearing boots for once, even if he hated the feeling due to his fluffy ankles. The only good thing about footwear like this was the feeling of relief whenever he got to take it off.
The road leading to Sin’s humble home had been somewhat cleared by his afternoon visitor. Mort had shown up rather unexpectedly, but it hadn't been an unwanted surprise. It was the first time since Mort’s trip out of town to see his family and Sin had to admit that it was nice to have him back. Sin normally didn’t feel particularly lonely, but Mort’s absence had been noticed by the old grave-keeper. The young Siamese cat was likewise wearing a thick, warm coat that made him look almost round, given his short stature.
Mort had graciously offered to help Sin shovel snow and clear paths from his home to the cemetery’s entrance, and while Sin wouldn’t say he needed the help, he didn’t mind at all. They each had snow shovels and had made large heaps of the stuff on either side of the path to the cemetery.
“Almost done, young Blakely. Hope you don’t mind staying for some tea – it'll help you warm up before you leave,” Sin said. He had his back turned towards the younger cat as he shoveled snow into a large bank. Something hit Sin’s left shoulder with a soft thud. He hesitated, before turning around.
“Sounds good, old Chezk! I could do with something warm.” Mort was still facing away from Sin, shoveling snow as well. Sin squinted slightly and grunted, before he turned back again. He supposed it was warranted; he really shouldn’t be this formal with Mort by now. Sin had barely resumed shoveling again before another snowball hit his back again. This time he whirled around and looked at Mort, but the young cat still seemed busy at work. Was he…?
“Alright, very funny, Mort,” the older cat grumbled, watching the Siamese closely. Turning around to face him, Mort just smiled at the scowling older cat as he approached.
“What? What’s wrong?” the young cat wondered, ever so innocently. Sin stared at him, gazing into those bright blue eyes and looking over that innocent face. The Oriental Longhair squinted down at Mort, who just fixed him with a puzzled expression. Grumbling, Sin turned back again and resumed shoveling. He was on high alert this time, waiting for more snowballs to come flying. But when none came, Sin quietly let his guard down. That young cat was very clearly messing with him…
“I’m warning you, Mort…” Sin growled when yet another snowball hit him, this one hitting his right shoulder, some of the snow from the shattering ball hitting the side of his face. Another one hit the back of Sin’s head this time and when he turned, he did so just in time to see Mort turning away.
Bearing down on Mort, the young Siamese turned around in time for Sin to grab him and pick him up. He began to squirm immediately. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-!”
Whatever Mort was trying to say was cut off by a shrill shriek as Sin dropped him into a snowbank. With a soft ‘fwump!’ the young cat sank down into the snow, completely disappearing for a moment, before he shot back up, trembling and trying to shake the snow off. Sin smirked down at the younger cat as he dug himself out of the massive heap of snow, quite a sorry sight.
“Truce?” the shivering cat asked, the snow clinging to his beige and gray fur, as well as his clothes. He was a pitiful sight, but Sin just fixed him with a bit of a self-satisfied smirk.
“Truce…” the older cat agreed as Mort started to brush himself off, shaking slightly. “Come along, let’s get you inside before you get sick.”
The two put the shovels by the front of Sin’s home, before making their way inside. Mort took his coat off and shook it outside to get the snow off it, before he rejoined Sin inside. Mort looked rather miserable, but Sin just smiled as he draped a blanket around the younger cat, both to dry him off and to help him warm up.
“So, what’re you going to do?” Mort suddenly inquired as Sin helped rub him down to dry off his fur. As Sin wrapped him up in the blanket, Mort looked remarkably similar to a bat as he did.
“About…?” Sin calmly asked as he moved over to the kitchen, Siamese cat in tow.
“For Christmas. I mean, you’re not going to be here all alone again, are you?”
Sin couldn’t help but smile as he turned to look at the smaller male. He’d caught himself smiling more frequently with him around. The older cat shrugged and patted Mort’s head, the fur there still rather cold and damp.
“Most likely. Don’t have any family left to spend the holidays with, and…” Sin trailed off and looked away for a moment. The younger cat waited with baited breath for him to continue. When he did, he still didn’t meet Mort’s eyes, setting water to heat on his stove. “I prefer just being all alone.”
“I know, but…” When Mort trailed off and didn’t continue, it was Sin’s turn to turn and look at him. However, Sin was caught by surprise when the smaller cat looked up at him with a sad expression on his little face. “I don’t like the idea of you being all alone. You sure you don’t want to come back to Tennessee with me this time? You’d be welcomed there, I’m sure of it.”
Sin shook his head, but his smile didn’t falter. “As nice as that sounds, I think I’ll just stay here. But tell you what, if you come over before you leave, you may keep me company. How’s that sound?”
The Siamese cat’s little face broke into a smile that could’ve lit up a dark, small room, the kind of room that Sin would've otherwise dreaded being in. “Oh, you mean that? I’d like that a lot, I’ll make sure to get you something nice too-”
“Oh no, that is not necessary, Mort. Your company alone is more than adequate,” the old grave-keeper insisted. He looked the smaller cat over momentarily, icy blue eyes glancing over his huddled up form. “You feeling warmer? Or do I need to get you another blanket?”
“I feel-… I’m plenty warm, Sin. I’ll make sure to not throw too many snowballs at you next time I turn up,” he added playfully. “I promise.”
“You’ll be playing with fire if you throw any…”
“In that case, shouldn’t I?” Sin raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the short cat, whom he could very easily pick up and toss into another snowbank, if he wanted to. “Playing with fire would keep me warm, I'd imagine.”