A/N: Requested by forthrightly on LiveJournal, drabble post 9/28/09.
Disclaimer: I don't own the original work this is derived from. This work is complete, and its brevity is intentional.
The shutters rattle in a sudden breeze. Gwendal gets up to fasten them more securely, but they jump out of his hands the moment he undoes the latch and swing wide open. The full force of the October wind flies into his face and makes his eyes water.
He takes a deep breath. There is a sharp edge to it that he knows well: snow. It will be a cold winter.
After dealing with the shutters, he returns to his chair and picks up the mangled greenish mess that will, in a day or two, hopefully resemble a sweater.
Yuuri is too thin these days to go without.