mistletoe. jean kirschtein

Rendered defeated, you slammed the cupboard shut and walked towards the door, you'll just have to make with what you can.

The outside was blanketed with snow. Layers and layers of thick white ice beneath your feet. You ran your bare hands on the wood that made the walls, and felt a sharp shiver run along your arm as your skin made contact with the snow.

Feeling the sense of fulfilling your responsibility, to walked off to the other side of the house. And as you were walking, you found a series of mistletoes laureled all over the brim of the roof. The look of slight disgust fell on your face and you decided to ignore the little devils, and instead, head over to your destination.

Once you reached your target, you grew surprised to see Jean sitting on one of the benches, draped in full winter's garb, which, more or less, made you envious as you were missing a pair of gloves. You shook your head and walked over to the male and tapped at his back.

"I'm guessing you're not here to help me?" You said, the moment he turned his head to see you.

A smug grin fell on his face as he replied. "Nope." Plain and simple.

A tired and disappointed sigh escaped your lips and you turned around to do your duties, not paying a single mind to the boy.

You mended the walls and pillars all by yourself, with a lazy Jean just watching your back. Your cheeks and nose began to redden from the cold, and your fingers started to numb.

Hissing, you hid your hands inside your pockets in an attempt to warm them, but in vain, much to your dismay. You cursed under your breath, damning the bloody missing gloves to hell.

Something soft hit you on the back of your head and you turned around abruptly to see what was threw towards you. On the ground was a pair of dark grey woollen gloves, a tad worn off and has seen better days. You lifted your gaze to see Jean gesturing for you to pick it up, and wear it.

"Come on, I don't have all day." He said, face glowing a bright dark pink. Was it from the cold, or infatuation, you knew not.

A small smile crept its way to your face and the male averted his eyes away from you. "Thank you." You quietly said, wrapping your hands in the warmth of his mittens and opening and closing your palm. It was pleasant, his mitts, against your cold, numbing fingers.

"Thank you? Heh, you'll be returning that to me before lunch." He walked over to you and poked your forehead. His fingers were cold, and so you flinched back and rubbed your forehead. "Hey, also, my lips are cold, mind warming them up for me?" He lifted a finger upwards, and your eyes followed. Hanging on the edge of the roof was the line of mistletoes you were observing earlier.

Gloved hands found its way to your face. How could you forget about the mistletoes? Now you have to smooch a horse.

The snow made a sound under your feet, as you walked towards him. Standing on your tip toes, you closed your eyes shut and puckered your lips slightly. You did not lean in, you waited for him, his lips, but you stood there, on your tip toes, eyes shut and nothing happened.

Angry, that's what you were. He made a fool out of you! But you could still feel his presence, he was still standing in front of you. Impatience taking over, you opened your eyes to scream at him, but as soon as your eyelids fluttered open, he leaned in, placing his raw lips over yours.

His lips disappeared from yours but he did not pull away completely, no. The two of you, in every aspect, just stood there, faces warm against the cold, and lips quivering from the contact.

"It's still cold." He began, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, the snow is starting to fall... we... should head inside."

"No, my lips. They're still cold."

You turned every colour of the rainbow when those words escaped his mouth. Playfully shoving him off you, you laughed shyly and grabbed the sleeve of his winter coat and dragged him inside.