Winter-the coldest season of all; carries the shortest days and the longest nights
"Go to sleep." Randy mumbled, wrapping an arm around her bare waist.
"I can't sleep after we..." She stared into the glow from the fireplace.
"Because you're frigid."
"Because you're crazy." She countered.
"Yet somehow it works for us." He dabbed his mouth on the space between her jaw and neck.
"Maybe now it does." She said.
"That meaning..." Randy opened his eyes and waited for a response.
"Everything fades, Randy. One day I won't be so pretty, will it work for you then?" She asked. For a moment it was silent except the crackle of the dying fire.
"Come here." He wrapped a blanket around them and walked to the window. The snow was coming down hard, frosting everything it touched.
"Am I supposed to see something?" She inquired, staring out into the white mist.
"Everything." Randy corrected.
"But I don't..."
"Because everything's iced over and dormant, that mean it's gone for good?"
"Well...no." She admitted.
"So when we grow old together, should I love you any less?" He asked.
"God no." She whispered.
"Everything fades, but only weak things die."
Through the frigid and frost, Spring blooms.