Pinned Against a Snowbank

It’s snowing. Properly, like in the North. The snow here tends to lean towards wet slush. Now, it’s powdery.

Proper snow.

The crunching of the snow beneath my feet mixes in with the roaring laughter carrying from a nearby tavern. There’s distant music. It almost makes me want to join the festivities, down a pint of hot cider or two.

Almost.

Something red flashes before my eyes and I shout, falling back onto the heap of snow. Someone sits on top of me, shielding my eyes.

“Someone could kill you so easily.” The predatory, yet somehow playful words make my skin crawl before I realize the tone is all too familiar.

It’s Quinn.

“Let go of me!”

“But why? I enjoy you being pinned down by me.” They snicker.

I groan. “What do you want?”

A shrug. “Just a little talk. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“And whose fault is that? Where have you been?”

“Around.”

“Can’t we talk inside?”

“Don’t you like the snow? It’s the good kind. Like at home.”

“It’s not when you’re pinned against it.”

“You’re clothed properly. Now…” They fix their position, their groin swiftly grinding against my hips. It’s difficult to say if it was an accident or intentional. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

A pair of men dressed as a carrot and a cabbage walk past us. The carrot gives us a curious look.

“Keep walking,” Quinn snarls at him like a guard dog. Then, the predatory sneer leaves as quickly as it came, and they look at me with a smile. It’s a smile wider than what they’ve worn since we arrived in Rome.

“You seem happy.”

“I can’t be happy during Yule?” They feign ignorance before puffing in excitement. “I just couldn’t wait to give you your gift.”

“That’s not why you’re happy. You’re lying.”

“Yes. But I do have a gift for you.”

They grab me by the neck of my tunic and kiss me, hard. Too hard. Their teeth click against mine, they pull my clothes so violently that I can’t breathe. It’s as if they’re drowning and I’m their last lifeline. I grab their cloak, unsure if I want to push them away.

I inhale, desperately, only to become overwhelmed by their warm breath that smells of ash and oak. The scent is familiar, nostalgic, it sends a jolt of warmth through me despite the mild panic banging at the back of my head. A pained sigh escapes me.

Finally, they let me go, panting, smiling. “Well?” When I don’t immediately answer, they give me a puzzled frown. “Wasn’t it good?”

“What? I–”

“I just wanted you to feel good. I can try again?”

“What? No, it was fine. I just–”

They grab me again and kiss me, this time a little gentler, with more control, making sure that I can breathe properly. However, they still cling onto me too hard, push their lips against mine with too much force, still almost violently.

“Better?”

“Why are you–”

“Because you should kiss the one you love. You already tried to kiss me but I think I was distracted.”

“By what?”

“Things.” Another frown. “I think I’m bad at this. Can I practice on you?”

“I’m getting cold.”

Quinn pouts. They still cling onto me, making it difficult to breathe. Snow freezes my back and I can’t move.

“Can I at least bite you on the nose? It’s such a cute nose…”

“No. Look, the kiss was nice but I’m getting cold. I just want to–”

“Shh.” They silence with their finger on my lips. “Don’t move a muscle. I can warm you right up.” They give me a grin and shift their hips.

"No. Inside. Now."

"Pfft. Fine."