Snow Angel -- PROMPT #37 SNOW (Heroes, Claisaac)
Title: Snow Angel
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for How to stop an exploding man? Maybe?
Pairings: Isaac/Claire
Characters: Isaac, Claire
Prompt: #37 Snow
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Warnings: Well, its implied she's younger, but that's it.
Summary: Claire's first winter in New York
Disclaimer: Guh. I think we all know I don't own Heroes.
AN: OMFG. Almost THREE. WHOLE. MONTHS. Since I posted a Heroes50 story! BUT I MADE IT!
LETS NOT DO ANYTHING SCARY LIKE THAT AGAIN.
--
Snow Angel
She closed her eyes softly, as a thin wisp of oxygen misted into tiny ice crystals in the air around her. An arm wrapped around her waist, and pulled her back against warm solidity.
"Beautiful." She breathed, opening her eyes to smile up at him.
He returned her soft smile, before moving his free hand over to grasp her wrist gently, and lift her hand up to the cool glass in front of her. The billowing snow that brushed across the window and settled across the rooftops below them. It was like one of his paintings...so serene and gentle.
You would never know by looking that a world had almost been ripped apart by it.
With a slight pressure, he moved one of her fingers to trace an intricate pattern in the cloud formed by their breathing on the plate of glass. She couldn't make out what it was, it seemed like so many random lines in the fog. The oils of her skin would leave a smudge on the window long after the mist would fade.
She didn't mind, the warmth of his hand contrasted against the coldness of the window on her skin in a wonderfully soothing way, and she leaned back into him with a sigh.
"Odessa never snows." She said softly, still entranced by the lazy patterns he traced along the pane. "I wish we could go out and make snow angels."
The sidewalks and roads all around his loft were trampled with the heavy traffic, and there was no where nearby she could see that had room to actually make one.
He grinned, and squeezed her hand a moment, before tugging gently on her shoulders, and leading her quickly out of the house into the hallway, ignoring her inquiries. She shivered slightly at the bite of the cold wind passing through the breezeway outside, and followed him up the winding steps nearby.
Snow was catching in her hair and melting on her cheeks as he pulled her onward, only glancing back to smile knowingly at her a few times, before she found herself standing on the rooftop.
It was breathtaking. Snow dressed every inch of the rooftop, undisturbed by anything but the occassional pigeon track. She was certain her bones had frozen over by this point, but she ran into the white blanket regardless, spinning slowly before falling backward into the snow with a resounding thump.
Anyone else would have had a knot on the back of their head come morning, she just grinned up at her escort, who had decided to follow after her, and crouch overhead, blocking some of the falling snow from landing on her face.
She slid her arms and legs around like she'd seen on TV for a few minutes, before struggling up to her feet and looking down at her new creation. It was nothing like the smooth and elegant looking snow-angels she'd seen in movies.
She sighed softly, and slid an arm around the man still standing nearby her, smiling fondly. "I need more practice."
"You'll have plenty of opportunities here." He replied with an amused tone.
She grinned up at him. He was a strange, lost, vision in the falling snow, pale and dark and littered with snowflakes like a winter portrait. "You must be great at making them."
"I quit years ago."
She frowned slightly. "You shouldn't! They're fun."
He pulled her closer with one arm, and ran his other hand through her hair, resting his forehead on hers. "I don't need to make any more."
She pouted in mock-offense. "What? Are you too old for them now?"
He grinned, touching his nose to hers, and pressing a soft kiss on her lips. "I already have the only snow angel I'll ever want."
The End
--
AN: ONE SITTING! YES. ONE.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for How to stop an exploding man? Maybe?
Pairings: Isaac/Claire
Characters: Isaac, Claire
Prompt: #37 Snow
Genre: Romance, Fluff
Warnings: Well, its implied she's younger, but that's it.
Summary: Claire's first winter in New York
Disclaimer: Guh. I think we all know I don't own Heroes.
AN: OMFG. Almost THREE. WHOLE. MONTHS. Since I posted a Heroes50 story! BUT I MADE IT!
LETS NOT DO ANYTHING SCARY LIKE THAT AGAIN.
--
Snow Angel
She closed her eyes softly, as a thin wisp of oxygen misted into tiny ice crystals in the air around her. An arm wrapped around her waist, and pulled her back against warm solidity.
"Beautiful." She breathed, opening her eyes to smile up at him.
He returned her soft smile, before moving his free hand over to grasp her wrist gently, and lift her hand up to the cool glass in front of her. The billowing snow that brushed across the window and settled across the rooftops below them. It was like one of his paintings...so serene and gentle.
You would never know by looking that a world had almost been ripped apart by it.
With a slight pressure, he moved one of her fingers to trace an intricate pattern in the cloud formed by their breathing on the plate of glass. She couldn't make out what it was, it seemed like so many random lines in the fog. The oils of her skin would leave a smudge on the window long after the mist would fade.
She didn't mind, the warmth of his hand contrasted against the coldness of the window on her skin in a wonderfully soothing way, and she leaned back into him with a sigh.
"Odessa never snows." She said softly, still entranced by the lazy patterns he traced along the pane. "I wish we could go out and make snow angels."
The sidewalks and roads all around his loft were trampled with the heavy traffic, and there was no where nearby she could see that had room to actually make one.
He grinned, and squeezed her hand a moment, before tugging gently on her shoulders, and leading her quickly out of the house into the hallway, ignoring her inquiries. She shivered slightly at the bite of the cold wind passing through the breezeway outside, and followed him up the winding steps nearby.
Snow was catching in her hair and melting on her cheeks as he pulled her onward, only glancing back to smile knowingly at her a few times, before she found herself standing on the rooftop.
It was breathtaking. Snow dressed every inch of the rooftop, undisturbed by anything but the occassional pigeon track. She was certain her bones had frozen over by this point, but she ran into the white blanket regardless, spinning slowly before falling backward into the snow with a resounding thump.
Anyone else would have had a knot on the back of their head come morning, she just grinned up at her escort, who had decided to follow after her, and crouch overhead, blocking some of the falling snow from landing on her face.
She slid her arms and legs around like she'd seen on TV for a few minutes, before struggling up to her feet and looking down at her new creation. It was nothing like the smooth and elegant looking snow-angels she'd seen in movies.
She sighed softly, and slid an arm around the man still standing nearby her, smiling fondly. "I need more practice."
"You'll have plenty of opportunities here." He replied with an amused tone.
She grinned up at him. He was a strange, lost, vision in the falling snow, pale and dark and littered with snowflakes like a winter portrait. "You must be great at making them."
"I quit years ago."
She frowned slightly. "You shouldn't! They're fun."
He pulled her closer with one arm, and ran his other hand through her hair, resting his forehead on hers. "I don't need to make any more."
She pouted in mock-offense. "What? Are you too old for them now?"
He grinned, touching his nose to hers, and pressing a soft kiss on her lips. "I already have the only snow angel I'll ever want."
The End
--
AN: ONE SITTING! YES. ONE.