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The winter was at its peak — a higher one than Faraway had seen in years. Ice swirled and flooded the air, blocking out even the clouds that covered the sky. The wind howled, fierce and unrelenting. The white blanket of snow had long since stacked too high to see over.
Shutters slammed against the house, glass rattling in the torrents of frost. On the inside, each window and door was fitted over with blankets tucked as tight as they could. It didn't do much to starve out the cold, but anything would help.
Sunny sat curled up on the couch, peeking out at the endless white.
Frost bloomed across the glass, etching patterns both sharp and graceful. Beyond it, streaks of ice and snow blurred into gray, pelting against every surface. Tapping. Banging.
He never liked winter that much. Sure, it had its moments. Snowball fights with Kel and Aubrey. Hot cocoa and by the fire with Basil. Warm food from Hero. And then all those evenings spent with Mari — laying on the floor and laughing at bad Christmas movies. But despite all of that, it was nonetheless a bleak season. A world of gray and inescapable white that drained the color from life itself.
He shivered, and pulled his blanket tighter around him. He had three — all thick and fluffy. One was wrapped around his legs and tucked in under his feet. Another around his waist and chest, tightly held between his back and the couch. The last was draped over his shoulders, the ends brought together by his shaky fingers.
Even with that, on top of the double tee-shirts and hoodie he was wearing, the chill crept in — crawling through every crack and every loose thread. It bit at his finger tips. He began to feel them go numb.
Normally, it would be fine — the cold raging outside wouldn’t bother him; he’d remain snug and cosy inside…
But of course their heating had to quit right when they hit record lows for their town. Sunny didn't remember how low it had gotten. Something in the negatives; too cold.
Footsteps padded softly across the old wood floorboards. Sunny turned towards the sound.
It was Basil, walking in from the kitchen. He was wearing a thick, knitted cardigan and a matching forest green bobble hat. Both, of course, were decorated with various floral designs.
Sunny smiled.
Basil really had just his one thing, huh? Sunny was glad though — Basil had found what he loved. He knew what he wanted to do, and he was already so good at it.
Sunny wished he had something like that…
He shook his head gently, as if dusting off his thoughts.
“T-t-tea's ready, S-Sunny!” Basil held the two mugs as stable as he could, fighting against the cold for control of his hands. Slowly, he set down the two mugs on the table in front of the couch. Steam twisted and curled upwards from each one. As if it was alive.
As soon as Basil's hands were free, they flew to his arms, trying to rub off the cold that clung to him. He sat down with a heavy thump. Dust billowed from the cushions — despite how often they were used.
Sunny’s eye lit up as he looked at the mug of hot tea. He shifted around, worming his hands out of his cocoon of warm blankets while exposing as little as he could to the cold.
He wrapped his fingers around the mug, the heat thawing his fingers. The steam curled around and brushed his face as he held it to his lips.
Sunny took a sip of tea. It was creamy, spiced with a hint of vanilla, and hot enough to almost burn his tongue as he drank it. He exhaled lightly as he felt the warmth from it sink into him, from his mouth down to his stomach.
Basil was sitting right next to Sunny, both hands curled around his mug as well. He sipped his tea quietly, smile shaking from the cold. His legs were tangled together, desperate to conserve warmth between them.
Sunny blew gently on his tea, scattering the rising steam. His eye glanced towards Basil, who was balled up as much as he could be — and still shivering despite his efforts to hide it.
Sunny looked back down at his bastion of accumulated warmth, then set his mug back down. He unwrapped himself from the multitudes of layers he had built up, braving the frigid air.
Pushing off the couch, Sunny scooted closer to Basil.
“S-sunny?” Basil looked over at him, watching him strip away his blankets.
Then, Sunny tossed a blanket over Basil. It drooped over Basil’s face. Right as he pulled it off, Sunny tossed a second, and then a third. Basil was now covered in three thick, fluffy blankets.
Sunny smiled, watching Basil wrangle the blankets.
Basil finally got them off his head, letting them fall around him. “Aren't you c-cold?”
“‘m fine.” Sunny pushed his mug across the table towards Basil’s. They gently clinked together.
“B-but—” Basil said.
Sunny shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. Then he slipped himself under the blankets with Basil. They brushed shoulders, and Sunny moved closer still. His hand found Basil’s under the covers.
Basil’s face heated up, his mouth moving silently, unable to articulate his thoughts. Eventually he sighed, giving up on words and letting a smile spread across his face instead. He squeezed Sunny’s hand tighter, watching the way his smile twitched as he did.
Sunny pulled the blanket tighter on his side, and Basil did from the other. Their shared warmth was trapped together. Their fingers were snugly curled around the hot mugs. Sunny leaned against Basil, snuggling into the crook of his neck.
He closed his eye, listening to Basil’s hushed breaths as they lined up with his.
Outside, the wind still howled and the ice pounded.
But here, under their shared blankets, with Basil’s hand in his—
With the subtle scent of tea and the steady warmth of their breaths—
He finally felt warm.