You look at me with a confused expression. Your eyebrows lowered. Your eyes are asking me. Oh what it is to be new. This is your first snow. Another season passing into another. A baby growing into a boy.
Your cheeks are rosy with the cold. Yet still so warm as the soft flakes kiss your skin they melt. There is magic in the first snowfall of the season. And for you the first you have known, the magic compounds. It sees the magic in you and flutters down to greet you.
You snuggle into my chest. Your eyes are getting drowsy. Your blinks are slow. You look up at me and a sleepy crooked smile crosses your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and your breath comes slow and even.
I tuck you inside my coat and zipper you into its warmth. I wonder how long you'll fit in
there. How long will I get to carry you? This is the Golden Age, and there is power in knowing it as it happens.
The flakes fall soft and slow. A snow globe after the flurry. It lands quietly. Everything is quiet. I can hear my own heart beating. Time has slowed. I stand there letting my cheeks turn red in the cold. My arms wrapped around you denying time.
Letting the magic fall upon us. Letting it seep into our skin. I close my eyes and catch the flakes upon my lashes. Outside of space and time. If only for a moment.
Just for a moment everything around us is still. The woods are silent. Crystal flakes suspended in the air. Just you. Just me. Just us wrapped in magic.
You let out a long humming sigh from within the fur of my coat. And the flakes flutter to the ground. The wind shakes through the pines. Time picks up again and my feet crunch through the thin blanket as we move back towards the warmth of home.
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