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Lars likes winter.
He wouldn’t go as far as to say it’s his favorite season, because all seasons have good and bad things about them, but he really likes winter.
There’s the obvious things to like about it, such as snow. Snow covers the world in a nice, soft blanket, dulling all the edges and making everything look so pretty. It makes everything much quieter, too. There’s nothing Lars likes more than being outside really early in the morning after a fresh snowfall—when the sun is just barely climbing up over the horizon, streaking across the sky and bathing everything in a warm orange glow, reflecting off the untouched snow and making everything brighter than it normally is. Not many people are up that early, and it sounds like even fewer given how the snow dampens all the noise.
Some people don’t like the snow because they don’t like shoveling, but Lars thinks that’s silly. Shoveling isn’t that bad as long as you keep up with it, and people generally leave you alone when you’re doing it. Besides, every season has its own outdoor activity that’s necessary for upkeep, and he’d much rather shovel than rake leaves. He hates raking leaves. Dead leaves are dry and scratchy and bits of them get in his shoes and stick to his hair and he ends up trailing leaf crumbs all across the house. At least when snow melts it just turns into water.
Lars also likes winter because it’s cold, and when it’s cold then he can wear extra layers and still feel comfortable. And when it’s cold, he can go outside and people will leave him alone, because other people don’t like being cold.
He’s using that to his advantage right now.
Lars is at a party—or, he’s sitting outside a house that currently contains a party. One of his coworkers decided to host a party for… some reason, and Lars agreed to drive Margo there and back, so now he’s stuck there. He should probably find Margo and ask to leave, but that requires going back inside into the cramped, hot, loud house filled with far too many people in such a small space, and he only just calmed down enough that he no longer feels like he wants to claw his skin off.
He’s made an effort to go to social events because he knows Bianca would’ve wanted him to, and she was always much braver than Lars—and smarter—so he tries to do what would’ve made her happy. He’s been fine at most of the parties he’s attended, but for whatever reason this one makes him want to tear his hair out.
The house is too warm. They obviously have the heat cranked up high to ward off the below freezing air outside, but once all the guests showed up it got far too hot inside, and the house itself was too small for Lars to feel comfortable shedding more than one layer because too many people were touching him, and then he overheated which only made his feelings worse.
Lars blows out a heavy breath, watching it fog in the chilly air. His nose and cheeks are starting to sting a bit, but that’s a small price to pay for some space to himself. Besides, he kinda likes how it feels, and it’s a lot easier to warm back up than it is to cool off.
He should probably go back inside. He’s been out here long enough that he can handle being around people again—at least for as long as it will take to find Margo and leave.
Lars glances in the window, sees the crush of bodies on the other side, and decides to stay outside for a little longer. It’s much quieter outside.