Chapter Text
As the sky begins to brighten and the moon spends less and less time in the sky, the winter works its way towards its end. The thick snows turn to sleeting drizzle, and more and more nights the temperature doesn’t drop below zero. The snow and ice melts away, and the world smells of snow mold and damp, and then, eventually, of growing things.
The change is evident in Gabriel. It’s gradual, but he fades, too. It starts with his need for your energy. He requires less and less of it to stay warm, to keep the frost and ice from his skin. Eventually he stops needing you at all, and then the next morning, your fingers pass right through his. You panic, not ready to lose him yet, but Gabriel assures you he isn’t going to vanish overnight.
You can see the effort it takes it to stay solid, especially as spring draws ever nearer. Finally, he reaches the point where he can no longer hold you. His body is as insubstantial as mist.
Still, Gabriel doesn’t leave you. He stays with you, a faded ghost that you can’t touch. But his smiles, his sweet words, the look in his eyes- they’re all worth the frustration of not being able to kiss him, or cup his face, or wrap your arms around his waist.
At last, the colour begins to drain from him, and Gabriel starts to fade entirely.
“You promise me?” you ask him, over and over again as the nerves jump at the sight of his faintness. “You promise me you’ll come back? I’ll see you again?”
“Of course. Of course you will. You couldn’t keep me away.” He smiles, reaches for your face, only to have his hand pass through you. It’s frustrating for both of you. No matter how many times you ask him, though, Gabriel seems happy to reassure you that you won’t lose him, not completely. You suspect he’s also glad to hear you voice your own part of the promise.
On the first day of spring, you wake up with nothing beside you but the echo of a voice whispering your name. You call out to him, at first panicked, and then despairing. You get no response.
You had thought that being prepared would lessen the blow of losing him. You were wrong; your stomach goes empty, and your chest aches, and the only thing that stops you from breaking down is the promise of next winter, and the hope of biting cold, and the dream of your lover’s touch.
You rise from your bed, pausing when something shifts on the pillow beside you. It’s delicate, but perfect, and you carefully pick it up.
The feather is long, thick, and softer than anything. It’s brown, the most beautiful shade in the entire universe.
You close your eyes, brushing it against your cheek. It’s a ghost of feeling, the memory of Gabriel’s breath on your skin in the moments before he kissed you. You tuck the feather carefully away, even as a smile tugs at your lips. He left you a gift, something to remind you. A physical promise. A piece of him that you can keep with you forever.
Without Gabriel, you can’t bear to be in the cabin. You pack your things, and you’re gone the next day, heading back into the city, diving into the distracting bustle of life. On the roadside, there are flowers beginning to bud bright green. For once, they signal anything but joy.
You swallow down the weight of missingness and longing that has already settled like a rock in your chest. You tuck your hand into your pocket, running your fingertip along the edge of the owl feather.
You won’t forget.
Spring slips by in a chill of fresh flowers and green things. The world is unthawed and thriving, and you can’t look at the swollen blooms of irises or roses without wishing for them to be covered with frost, sprinkled with snowflakes, glazed with ice.
You’re busy enough that you can forget the stone in your chest for the most part, but every once in a while you’ll catch yourself off guard with the longing, and people will see you holding an own feather, running your finger along the edge like it’s your most precious possession.
Summer whirls by in a haze of heat, all sun and sand and ocean. The heat is painful, because it reminds you too much of your lover’s frozen touch. The summer is bittersweet, tainted always by the ache for Gabriel.
Autumn is a relief. The leaves crackle and curl, and the chill breezes blow, and everything smells of wood fires and pumpkins. You relish in the cold, and while others lament the upcoming winter, you can barely contain your excitement. Your step quickens, and your very bones seem to vibrate with electric impatience. When the first snows fall, a powdery dusting of white, you’re calling Amélie and breathlessly asking her if she’d mind if you went out early this year. All through the call, you can’t tear your eyes away from the snowflakes dancing in the chilly wind outside your window.
Amélie thinks you’re half-crazy, but she gives you the cabin keys without complaint. You hardly linger long enough for her to tell you that she’ll meet you out there in a month.
When you get to the cabin, there is no snow on the ground. The trees are bare and prepared for the cold, and the harsh wind hisses through the bushes and pines. You walk the forest until your skin is numb with the cold, retreating to the warm cabin with a sinking heart.
It takes three days for the snow to really fall. A small storm hits, and the wind howls against the cabin for three days. The snow collapses onto the ground in thick layers, and when the storm finally blows past, the world is blanketed in white. Flakes of snow flurry through the air on a stiff, biting breeze. You’ve never felt anything so wonderful.
You bundle up, blocking out the cold to the best of your ability and braving the fresh white landscape. You leave deep prints in the snow as you wander into the forest. The world smells like ice, and chill, and cold, fresh things. You can smell the woodiness of the forest, like a sting of pine on your tongue.
The forest is still, and the trees are heavy with snow, branches bowing under the weight. The whole world is still asleep, wrapped in a thick blanket of white. Nothing but you stirs the silence, the stillness.
Something rustles across the clearing, and you turn around, clumsy with your heavy boots. Your tracks trace across the snow until they hit the trees, disappearing past the bushes that tremble slightly, shedding snowflakes under a shadow’s touch.
You’re holding your breath as the figure pushes between the bushes, striding to the edge of the clearing before stopping. Your heart stops along with him.
Gabriel looks the same as the first time you met. He’s wrapped in a cold indigo cloak, his mask glowing with a bright blue light. His hands are icy claws, and he’s a tall, frozen specter of ice.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt this kind of delight before.
“Gabriel!” you cry. Every day since you’ve last seen him hits you all at once. All that time without him, doubting if you’d really ever see him again, and here he is, standing in front of you, as quiet as the trees.
You trip forwards, fighting through the snowdrifts, struggling against the clumsy weight of your boots. Gabriel starts towards you, sweeping gracefully closer, reaching for you. You cry out when he catches you, and he takes you into his arms, pulling you close to his chest. You fling your arms around him, but then you pull back, stretching up to catch his mask between your palms.
“Gabriel,” you repeat, and he reaches up to yank off his mask, tossing it to the side as he cups your cheeks in his hands. He’s so careful not to let his claws scratch your skin.
“Hello beautiful,” he breathes, and then he’s kissing you. The kiss is cold as ice, sharp as frost, bitter as winter. It’s so, so perfect. You could die happy, if only he’d kiss you in your last moments.
Gabriel’s arms go around you, and you press against him, and you’re so eager and intense that you knock the both of you to the ground. Gabriel holds you as he falls back into the snow, and he laughs until you cut him off with a kiss, hands pressed to his chest as you taste his lips until you can’t breathe.
“Gabriel,” you say again, the word that is lodge in your throat, in your head, in your heart. “Oh, Gabriel, I’ve missed you.”
He kisses you, gentle. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, tracing one claw against your lip. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
It’s plain on his face; his eyes glimmer with joy and adoration, and even as you both struggle back to your feet, he doesn’t let you go. Even with his eyes bright, glowing blue, you know that look. You reach for his hand, and Gabriel curls his fingers with yours, pulling you to his side. He kisses your neck, and your cheek, making you shiver with the cold. Still, you lean into his touch, and Gabriel laughs, kissing your cheek once more.
“Come on,” he murmurs, tugging you in the direction of the cabin. “Let’s warm you up before you get frostbite.”
You smile, pressing close to his side as he helps you through the thick drifts of snow. The weight that had been settled inside you for so long has miraculously vanished; you’re lighter than air, lighter than the fog of your breath in the cold. You look up to Gabriel’s face, and he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close as you make your way back to the cabin.
“Are you hungry?” you tease, as you snuggle against him, tucked under the side of his cloak. Gabriel runs a hand over your hair, turning a smile on you. It’s mischievous, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight and his eyes lit with an ethereal glow. Even so, the happiness there is clear as day. He looks like an angel, and when he wraps his arm back around your waist and speaks, his voice is like a song.
“I’m starving.”