This is just a little something that popped in my head and won't get out. I'll be updating with the daily witfit prompts as they speak to me.

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This is unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. Thanks to jennde for the help!

Prompt: Flurries

The light poured in through the window across the room and was bright, even behind my closed eyelids. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to block it all out, and groaned. It had been a long night, and the prospect of dragging myself out of bed and into work was not appealing. At all.

I pushed myself up on my elbows and blearily cracked open my eyes. The light was blinding, due in large part to what looked like a flurry of snow blowing wildly in the wind.


I glanced over to the woman beside me in bed. She was naked, as usual, but the sight of her bare back and her long red hair spilled all around her did absolutely nothing for me. I wasn't surprised. After the argument we'd had last night and the weeks – no, months – of tension between us, it felt good to realize I felt nothing. Not remorse. Not sadness. Nothing.

I decided not to dwell. Instead, I dragged myself out of bed and into a very hot shower. By the time I got out, Victoria was out of bed, and from the sound of it, downstairs in the kitchen. The thought of confronting her, ending it, was not appealing, but it was time. It had been for a while.

After I was dressed, with jacket in hand, I trudged down the stairs. I had no idea what I'd find when I got down there, but the sight of Vic in one of my button down shirts, long lean legs fully exposed, and a thick pair of fuzzy, striped socks wasn't it.

She glanced over her shoulder, her hands still fiddling with the coffee maker. "Morning, babe."

I ignored her and walked into the kitchen. I quickly grabbed my standard protein and fiber bar and my favorite mug. I wasn't in the mood to wait, and Starbucks would be more than fine.

"Morning," she said again, looking at me pointedly.

"Are we really going to pretend like nothing happened last night, Vic?" I asked, feeling increasingly annoyed.

"Oh, come on, Ed. I said I was sorry. I meant it. Let's move on."

I clenched my jaw, knowing she was testing my resolve. The complete lack of sincerity in her voice and the cool glint in her eyes further solidified my decision. I wasn't going to allow her to flippantly brush it all under the rug, to pretend nothing had happened to get us to this point.

I straightened my shoulders, my steely gaze never wavering. "Yeah, you did. Just like you always do, but it's not enough this time. I'm done."

Her jaw dropped, and the flinch and subsequent scrunch of her eyebrows told me I'd thrown her a curveball.

"Done with what?"

"This. Us," I said, moving my hand between the two of us. "I'm done with the fights, the apologies that barely feel like they faze you, and the constant uncertainty I feel around you. I'm tired of working on something that isn't going anywhere." The more I talked, the better I felt. Free. As if the weight of two years worth of drudgery, fine tuning, and constant vigilance was finally being lifted.

"You can't be serious," she said emphatically. "We are not done. You don't mean that." Her voice was biting then soft, full of conviction and confusion, but I could tell the reality of what I was saying was sinking in.

"I am. I'm done, Vic. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to." I paused, and as if I needed to make my point even clearer, I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I'm moving out."

Her silence and my mine was like the death knell sounding. Clear. Loud. Final.

Her mouth opened and closed, her eyes welled with tears, and her shoulders slumped. I felt like a dick for being so harsh. I knew it hadn't all been bad between us, but I couldn't change the way I felt – had been feeling for months – and I knew if she really examined what we had, she'd feel the same way, too.

I waited a second to see if she'd say anything else as she roughly swiped away the tears that had fallen, but she didn't. Her clear, blue eyes finally met mine, and the cool, vacant glare she was giving me made me feel… nothing.

If I had any doubts before – which I didn't - I knew for sure I'd made the right decision. Without a backward glance, I walked out the door.

As I drove to work, my thoughts whirled like the snow outside - with the possibilities and what-ifs of where my life would go from there. Feeling like I could breathe for the first time in a long time, I turned on the radio and drummed my thumbs to some upbeat, poppy, Christmas song about mistletoe, playing in the snow, and some girl named Shawty.

Song reference is to Justin Bieber's, Mistletoe. Yes, I actually own it. What's your favorite Christmas song?

As an aside, I've got entries in both the Season of Our Discontent Angst (anon) and Beyond the Pale2 Contests. If you haven't already, take a second and read the entries and vote for your faves. There are lots of great stories in both!

http : / www . fanfiction . net/~seasonofourdiscontent (Dec 10)

http : / www . fanfiction . net/ u/ 2431148/BeyondThePale (Dec 12)