The city moved around us – laughter, skating blades scraping ice, faint carols drifting through the chilly air – but all I could focus on was the heat of his palm and the glow in my chest. Every little thing tonight felt warm and alive, like we were suspended inside a perfect snow globe.
The bench was cold against my back, but I hardly felt it with Kali tucked into my side and her ridiculous, oversized Alexander Wang scarf wrapped around both of our necks like a shared cocoon. Late afternoon light slanted between the bare branches overhead, painting the snow covered grass in long grayshadows. The air smelled like winter – sharp and clean – and the steam from our hot chocolates curled up into my face as we sipped slowly, leaning into each other.
“You’re gonna spill,” I warned, watching her nose crinkle as she held her cup carefully with gloved hands.
“Never,” she teased, knocking her knee against mine, before turning to the stuffed animal I won for her to make sure they were sitting comfortably too on the bench.
A squirrel appeared near us, tiny paws twitching as it sniffed the trail of crushed acorns leading toward us. Kali’s face lit up like she’d just uncovered treasure. “Aww, look at him,” she whispered, pulling out the cup of roasted nuts I got her and tossing one gently onto the grass.
“You really want to feed that guy?” I raised an eyebrow. “He probably eats better than I do.”
She shushed me and tossed another. “He’s name is Zane, thank you very much,” she corrected me, eyes bright with mischief.
I gave her a flat look.
That only made her laugh harder, her breath misting into the cold air as she grabbed my arm and rocked against me.
And for a moment, I just watched her. Watched the way her hair framed her face, catching the pale light like a halo, the way her hands moved without hesitation as she offered the squirrel another treat. Every little thing about her was so effortless – so vivid against the muted tones of Central Park in December.
My chest felt too tight and too light all at once.
I took a sip of cocoa just to busy myself, but my thoughts kept circling back to the obvious: I loved her, without question. The world could go quiet around us forever like this and I’d never miss the noise.
Eventually, night had fully settled in by the time we decided to leave Central Park, the sky a deep navy brushed with the glow of city lights. The cold bit at my face and fingertips as we headed to exit the park downtown, toward Rockefeller Center.
Out of nowhere, something cold and hard smacked my back.
I froze mid-step and glanced back just in time to see Kali standing there, mitten over her mouth, eyes wide with fake innocence before she broke into a fit of giggles.
“Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” I growled playfully, leaning down to make my own snowball.
That was all it took – she squealed and bolted down the large sidewalk of the park, scarf trailing behind her like a banner, stuffed toy seal in hand.
“You’re not getting away that easy!” I called after her, my breath misting in the dark as I gave chase.
People stepped aside with amused glances as we ducked around them, my boots crunching against slushy pavement. I let my snowball fly – it burst against the back of her coat and she whirled around laughing, already making another one.
“You asked for it!” she grinned, and a second later I was dodging snow as she hurled one straight at my head.
We went back and forth like that under a curtain of shimmering streetlights, breathless and giddy. Every hit ended in a tangle of laughing and fake protests, Kali’s hands cold and her nose glowing under her scarf.
And then, as if on cue, the first flakes began to drift down – soft, slow, glowing against the dark sky like tiny bits of magic against the magical, golden city lights glowing around us.
Both breathless, we made our way towards each other – Kali with the prettiest smile I’d ever laid my eyes on, me with a stupid grin on my face.
My hands found her waist.
Hers looped around my neck.
The fight fell away without us really noticing, our breaths slowing as the snow began to settle on our hair and eyelashes.
“I love you, Kali,” I murmured, leaning in.
Her lips warmed against mine, her hands gripping my shoulders as we kissed right there under the snowfall, stuffed animal hanging over my back from her hold – the distant hum of the city, the lights twinkling, the cold forgotten entirely.
For a long, perfect time, it felt like the whole world had paused to give us that one special moment.
Twenty minutes later,the sidewalks around Rockefeller Plaza were crowded, a moving sea of bundled bodies and glowing phone screens all pressing toward the rink. Strings of white lights wound up every tree trunk like glowing ribbons, and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts hung in the air. Tiny flecks of snow still fell, catching in my hair and on Kali’s lashes as we wove between people, hands clasped tight, stuffed white seal held securely against her chest.