One Cold Night

The snow falls in downy flakes. She breathes in the night air, cold and sharp against her lungs. She exhales a puff of breath into the still night. From her spot on the porch step, she watches the snow slip down in a lazy pattern, listless and silent. She keeps breathing in and out.
"What are you doing out here?" His voice comes from behind her, as comfortable and warm as a taste of spicy apple cider.
"It's cold," he is saying. The screen door creaks open, bathing the porch in light. Music pulses through the open door. He closes it behind him; the night quiets again. He sits down next to her on the step, his shoulder brushing against her. She shivers a bit.
"You cold?" he asks gently, wrapping an arm around her, solid and protective. She leans into his warmth, shivering again.
"Too hectic in there for you?" he asks. "Nell's Christmas parties are always pretty high energy." He flashes a smile into the night.
"Just thinking," she answers, smiling back. Her heart pounds. She wishes it would stop.
"Bout what?" he prods, softly twirling her hair between his fingers.
She is quiet. If only he knew what she'd been thinking of. They've been friends for nine years now, but lately, she has found herself thinking of him differently. . . Thinking of the way he smiles with one side of his lips tipped higher than the other. Of his absurd love of orange soda. Of the way it might feel to kiss him. Of the way he sings too loud. Of the way he hugs everyone. Of the way he plays Suduko on his phone when he thinks no one is looking. Of the way he makes her feel-- like her insides are just a big, warm bubble, light and airy and ready to burst at any moment.
"Um, well." She starts to make up an answer, then stops. Maybe it's the shadowy romance of the twinkle lights strung around the eaves of the house. Maybe it's the crsip scent of the feathery snowflakes. Maybe it's the slow strains of "Santa Baby" leaking from the house. Or maybe, she just hopes it'll stop her heart from pounding in her ears. But suddenly, she finds herself wanting to tell him the truth.
"Well..." She says again-- her tongue feels large for her mouth. "You, actually."
She pulls herself out of his embrace. She sits up straight, focusing intently on tracing her fingers over the wooden knots patterned into the porch steps. "You should ask me out on a date," she says lightly-- much more lightly than she feels. She suddenly feels as though she's made of bricks.
"Oh." He exhales softly next to her. His shoulders stiffen.
Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight, the music croons.
The moment stretches delicately between them. She steals a glance at him. He purposefully catches her gaze, and it takes her breath away. She cannot read his expression at all. He is unreachable, unfathomable.
But then, he hesitates. His jaw clenches in a tight line and he looks away from her.
And then, the world falls dizzingly into a blur of white cold.

Isaiah 42:16

I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,
along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;
I will turn the darkness into light before them
and make the rough places smooth.
These are the things I will do;
I will not forsake them.

John 3:19-24

By this we shall know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before him; for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him. And this is his commandment, that we believe in the name of Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he commanded us. Whoever keeps his commandments abides in God, and God in him. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us.