Work Text:
“I want to show you something.”
I look up from my book to see Trowa, a soft smile on his lips. Between his smile and the soft firelight illuminating the room, he looks completely and utterly gorgeous. So gorgeous, in fact, that it takes me a moment to realize he’s wearing his jacket and holding mine out, too.
“Outside?” I ask, slightly incredulously as I mark my place in the book before setting it onto the side table.
Outside it is dark and snowy. The frost on the windows indicates that it is quite cold. I’d agreed to come on this retreat to one of the Peacecraft family’s northern estates in the winter under the sole condition that I wouldn’t have to go outside.
“Outside,” Trowa confirms as he pushes the jacket in my direction.
“It’s nighttime,” I say, even as I find myself reaching for my jacket.
“It is.”
“It’s probably really cold out there,” I say, as I slip one arm into the parka. The one with extra padding, that Trowa had purchased specifically for me, specifically for this trip just south of the Arctic Circle that I somehow got conned into.
“It is,” he agrees, before reaching behind himself to produce my scarf, gloves, and boots.
“I don’t like being cold,” I needlessly remind him, as I finish putting on the jacket. He laughs softly before tugging a woolen hat over my head.
“It will be worth it,” he promises, before putting on his own hat and gloves. He’s brimming with anticipation as I finish getting ready, and I suddenly have no doubt in my mind that, whatever it is, it will absolutely be worth it. Even if I hate it, seeing this eager, excited side of Trowa, an incredibly rare treat, will be worth it.
I barely have my boots tied when he’s grabbing my hand to pull me up and haul me toward the door. Suddenly, he stops and turns around to face me again.
“Close your eyes.”
I scoff before I can contain it. Now he wants me to go outside, in the dark, in the cold, with my eyes closed? I am known for many things, but my coordination, especially in comparison to Trowa’s, was not one of them.
Aware of my apprehension, he says, “I won’t let you fall.”
Of course he won’t. I know that. And so, with a somewhat petulant sigh of resignation, I close my eyes. For good measure, Trowa pulls the cap down over my eyes, and I can’t help but laugh. “It’ll be worth it?” I ask as he tugs me through the house. I’ll never admit it, but I’m actually excited to see what it is that he wants to show me.
“It’ll be worth it.”
I’m a little glad that my eyes are closed when he pulls the door open, shielding them from the onslaught of cold air that stings my cheeks. Behind me, I hear Wufei shout, “Close the fucking door, Barton!” and I laugh again. At least Wufei has the right idea, I think as I pull my scarf up to better cover my nose and mouth.
And then I’m tugged into the night, the snow crunching under my boots as I tightly grip Trowa’s arm. He’s walking slower than he normally would, compensating for his longer stride length and my temporary blindness, which I deeply appreciate.
“It’s not far,” he promises, his baritone cutting through the cold air. Aside from the crunching of snow, it’s incredibly quiet; no wind, no animals making sounds. It should be eerie, I think, but instead it's oddly comforting.
I do stumble a few times, especially once we step into the deeper snow, off the shoveled pathways of the estate, but, true to his word as always, Trowa doesn’t let me fall. The parka he’s chosen for me does a remarkable job of blocking the cold. I only feel it against my exposed cheeks and my legs. I should have insisted on getting my snow pants, but I guess it’s a moot point now.
I shiver, only because I’m thinking about how cold it is, and subconsciously tighten my grip on Trowa’s arm. He must notice because he reaches over to cover my gloved hand with his own.
“Here,” Trowa says as he brings us to a stop. He shifts behind me then, tugging me back against his chest as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Still closed?” he asks, his voice right next to my ear. I nod, and he reaches up to pull my hat out of my eyes, adjusting it tenderly to make sure my ears are still covered, before tilting my head back against his shoulder to face the sky. “Open,” he murmurs.
When I open my eyes, I’m positively awe-struck.
“Oh, wow,” is all that I can think to say. Trowa chuckles softly, squeezing his arms tighter around my shoulders.
Through an opening in the pines, lights dance across the night sky. Emerald greens, sapphire blues, the occasional wisp of pink all seem to swirl and twirl into and around one another, in an intricate, delicate dance. Everything around them seems to glow with ethereal light, like the entire world has stopped to watch the celestial ballet in the skies.
I’ve seen the aurora a few times before, from space. Watching the Earth as it passed into view from the colony, with a glowing green sheen at the poles. Magical looking, sure, but not beautiful. Not anything close to this. I had no idea how utterly beautiful it was from the surface.
I wonder, not for the first time, about a young Trowa in the Siberian wilderness. Could he see the aurora? Did he watch it with the same wonder and awe that I do now? I know there’s a story there, I can feel it swirling in the air around us. A story that I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to tell me, just like mine that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell him. Maybe this is his way of telling me. Maybe this is how he’s choosing to share this part of himself with me.
I don’t know how long we stand there, entranced by the sky. Trowa’s breath puffs warmly against my cheek and I can see him in my periphery, but I can’t bring myself to look away. “It’s beautiful,” I murmur finally.
Trowa presses a kiss to my temple. “Worth it?”
“Absolutely,” I whisper, afraid to break the spell around us. The wind picks up, only slightly, causing a shiver to pass through me.
“Are you too cold?” he asks, breaking the spell and letting me go as he slips off the backpack I hadn’t realized he was carrying. I look down then, as he opens it, seeing the blankets and thermos stuffed inside. “It’s hot chocolate,” he clarifies. “I would have done coffee but we don’t have any decaf.”
I laugh softly in awed disbelief. He really has thought of everything. He would have preferred tea for himself. He would have brought coffee if only it wouldn’t keep me up all night to have some this late.
I look back up at him, intending to compliment him on his thoughtfulness, but I’m struck speechless when I see him. When I see the lights reflected against his face, reflected in his eyes. The vibrant green in the skies, it’s the same as his eyes. The same beautiful, captivating emerald that enamored me to him ages ago. In the quiet of the night, it seems like he glows, too. Ethereal and vibrant, like he was born of the aurora itself. Otherworldly beauty.
It’s difficult in my boots, but I manage to raise up onto my toes so I can kiss him, grabbing onto his face with both hands to tug him closer. I slip a little, but Trowa’s arm wraps around my waist, steadying me as he bends down to kiss me back.
When he pulls back, he presses our foreheads together. His eyes are still dazzling, his nose tinged a little pink from the cold. I’m still holding his face in my hands. “Thank you,” I murmur, stroking my thumbs along his cheeks and pulling another one of those soft, utterly endearing smiles out of him. Committing it to memory, saving it so I can cherish his expression over and over again in the future. “This is…the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I trust that he knows I’m talking about him.