Pedro had discovered something about himself on this trip:he thrived best in warmer weather. The mountain where their cabin was perched was the polar opposite of “warmer weather”, and he didn’t intend that pun, either. There was more snow outhere than he’d ever seen in his life, and now it had trapped them in this tiny cabin, where they were probably going to die.
“Th-this stuff is evil,” Pedro chattered, gesturing to the blizzard outside the window. “And there is way too much of it. It’s pure, powdery white death! Going out there would be the last thing we’d ever do, I bet it would.”
“This is an o-o-ode, to sno-ow,” sang Balthazar, laughing at the indignant look on Pedro’s face.
“Snow doesn’t deserve an ode,” said Pedro.
“Hey, at least you tried it, right? You might still warm up to it,” quipped Balthazar, wrapped up in an oversized sweater, not to mention their bedspread.
Pedro grinned. “I know what kind of warming up I’d much rather do,” he said, joining Balthazar in bed and yelping when his boyfriend’s cold fingers brushed against the back of his neck. “Hey! You did that on purpose!”
The cold felt like it had seeped right through them. Luckily, they had each other to help them get thoroughly warm again.