Heat radiates through my limbs. Nothing exists in this moment but the two of us and the clean crisp snow. It’s too much, and I turn away from him, burying my face in the collar of my coat. But then something soft clips my arm in a powdery explosion.

I hesitate and another snowball brushes my side, falling apart on impact. Catcher holds up his hands as if to say he had nothing to do with it, but I can see that his fingers are red and puckered, wide troughs of snow dug up around his knees where he packed together the snowballs.

And then he laughs, the sound of it breaking the silence. It’s infectious, and soon I’m laughing too as I stoop and start collecting handfuls of powder, packing and smoothing them. Catcher scrambles to find cover but there’s nowhere to go on the barren roof and I pelt him. He huffs with mock outrage.

It’s his turn to chase me, and I shriek with laughter as I dodge his first attack, only to catch a snowball to my hip as I’m twisting to fire one off at him. We chase each other around in circles, scooping up snow and not even bothering to pack it before tossing it.

I’m out of breath from laughing and running and dodging. Snow crystals glitter around us, the frozen taste of them coating my lips. I give up all pretense of trying to make snowballs and just shovel snow at Catcher until he grabs me around the waist, pinning my arms to my sides. We’re both crying with laughter as he spins me, the last gasp of the sunset light setting each flake into brilliant glowing color.

Catcher’s cheeks are pink, his eyes bright and I can feel the heat radiating through his damp clothes. It’s freezing outside and I want to push closer to him, to take that warmth into me. We’re twirling so fast now that the force of it tries to pull us apart, but he holds me tighter, snowflakes spiraling around us. I let my head fall back and revel in the joy that erupts from every part of me for the first time in so long.

Finally, he stops and we stand there hiccuping and gulping frigid air. He reaches out absently and tucks a wet strand of hair behind my left ear, his fingertips just barely brushing my jaw. For a minute I forget to tense, forget to care that the hair was there to cover my scars, to hide me. For a minute I feel normal.

I don’t let hesitation crowd my mind. Instead I let the buoyant freedom of the moment overwhelm me and I stretch up onto my toes and push my mouth against his.