(22) mistletoe

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It was always cold at Rimeshire. Sophie knew this.

And yet she always forgot to bring a warm cloak with her.

"How many times did I remind you," Dex said, as Sophie was hunched in a ball by the fireplace, "to bring a cloak?"

"Five," she grumbled back. She didn't point out that Keefe had already lent her his own cloak, which she was currently wrapped up in. As fluffy and nice-smelling as it was, it wasn't enough to shake the chill out of her bones.

"And what did you—"

"Relax, Dizznee," Keefe groaned. "I think Foster's learned her lesson by now."

Linh rubbed Sophie's back soothingly, although clearly she wasn't the only one who was cold. The tip of her nose was as rosy pink as her cheeks. "Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have a snowball fight outside when it's below freezing, either," she remarked, shooting a glare at Keefe.

"Oh, the snowball fight wasn't the problem," Sophie spoke up. "It was the fist full of icy snow that someone shoved down the back of my sweater." 

Keefe sighed. "Okay, I take full responsibility for that, and only because it was hilarious. However, it is not my fault you haven't mastered temperature regulation yet—"

Sophie threw a pillow at Keefe's face, knocking him off the couch. Dex busted out laughing, spewing his hot chocolate everywhere.

"Gross, Dex," Sophie said, but ended up laughing along with him and Linh.

"I probably deserved that," Keefe said, his face still pressed to the floor. 

"Obviously," Sophie told him, but ruffled his hair to let him know she wasn't that mad.

"You got off waaay easy," Dex complained. "Be grateful."

"I know." Keefe turned his head to the side and stared up at Sophie. "It's hard to stay mad at these baby blues." He batted his eyelashes, earning another pillow to the face. "Ow!"

"Now we're even," Sophie teased, and squealed as Keefe grabbed her by the waist and tackled her to the ground.

Linh rolled her eyes. "Come on, Dex. Let's get something to clean up all this hot chocolate." She grabbed his hand and whisked him away to the other room before he could protest.

Sophie would've been embarrassed if she wasn't so distracted by Keefe's smirk, and the firelight reflecting in his eyes, and the warmth of his arms around her and the smell of his cologne and Keefe and Keefe and Keefe. He had stopped trying to wrestle her away from the fireplace, and instead they lay sprawled on the hearth, wrapped up in his cloak.

"You know what would make this even better?" Keefe whispered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Don't ruin the moment, she transmitted to him.

Just look up, he replied.

Sophie followed his gaze to the top of the fireplace where a sprig of mistletoe hung directly above them, tied together with a pretty red ribbon.

She was glad she was already red from the cold, because there's no way Keefe would have missed the furious blush on her face. "You're kidding me, right?" she said. "When did you put that there?"

Keefe blinked innocently. "Who said I was the one who put it there?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "If you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask," she said, and then she leaned forward and did so anyway.

His lips were warm, as warm as his hand that reached up to cup her face as he kissed her, and suddenly Sophie forgot what being cold even felt like as she balled her fists in the material of his sweater and pulled him closer.

"Still cold?" Keefe murmured as she snuggled against him.

Sophie hummed sleepily. "Not anymore."

With the fire blazing behind them and Keefe pressed against her, she had never felt so warm.

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