Page 67 of Let It Snow
"You’re so beautiful, Summer… so perfect."
The word ‘perfect’ makes me cringe a little inside; some inner resistance kicks in.
I pull my hand from the glass and frown at him.
"I’m not. Don’t say that. I’m anything but."
Snow smiles almost wistfully. He lifts a hand and brushes a strand of hair away from my face.
"You know… not many people would have done what you did. You chose to live in captivity and suffer just because you knew they’d go after your family otherwise. You had no idea how long this… slavery would last, maybe your whole life would be wasted and crushed by the mafia, and you still went through with it."
Heat rises in my cheeks.
Wow, so he sees my past this way?
Not ‘a paid mafia whore’ after all.
I feel a strange, aching tenderness in my chest. I never did any of it to be recognized, never wanted praise, but the fact that he sees it and calls it a sacrifice makes something inside me soften. Suddenly that dark, heavy force within me seems to ease just a little.
"To me, you’re a hero," he says quietly.
And then he slowly lifts my hand, turns it palm up, and places a gentle kiss on my wrist—right on my wrist gland. A shiver runs through me. I want more of the sweetness woven into his energy, yet at the same time I feel like I don’t deserve it.
It’s such a peculiar moment. I’m flustered and unsure how to respond. Someone actually sees worth in me, sees value. I know it’s not healthy to build myself on the validation of others, but I can’t deny the way my heart stirs and my pulse races. Because Snow doesn’t see me as broken, damaged, or ruined by the mafia. He sees me as a brave person, precious even. Maybe to him, that’s what I am?
His gaze holds mine, and I swear I can almost read his thoughts. This warm, golden stream of energy seems to flow from him, wrapping around me.
On impulse, I lift a hand, grab the back of his neck, and pull him closer. That’s just my way, I guess, I’m a little abrupt and feral in my advances. It helps me push through my shyness and nervousness.
Snow eagerly follows my energy. He leans in, and our lips melt together in a short but intense kiss.
The whole moment feels incredible. To anyone else it might look like nothing more than a quick kiss between people on a date, but to me it’s so much more.
It’s a flash of the life I’ve always wanted.
And I realize maybe Snow is right. Maybenormal lifereally is possible for us, waiting just around the corner?
"Can you make miracles?" I whisper breathlessly.
His lips are still on mine, skimming just the surface, leaving tiny traces of light.
"I can try, for you…" he replies, just as breathless.
Behind us comes an unpleasant grunt.
A family with kids walks by, and the father lets out that growly sound. We both straighten up like scolded teenagers.
But Snow just shrugs with a faint smirk and casually takes my hand again.
We keep walking through the tunnel, watching sea creatures drift past in their natural world. At the end there’s a wide, roundspace under a glass dome, a full underwater restaurant. Elegant, glowing, and surely expensive, but why not? You don’t get a first date like this every day.
"How about we grab something to eat?" Snow suggests, giving my fingers a small squeeze.
I nod eagerly. If there’s one thing that’s definitely improved since escaping the fortress, it’s my appetite. And here they’re serving some really tempting seafood.
Snow looks around and finds us a quiet table next to a large planter filled with shade-loving flowers. We both study the menus for a while, then place our orders on the small touchscreen in the center of the table. I go for seared scallops with basil and lime butter. Snow orders a grilled swordfish steak with salsa verde and arugula salad.
The contrast between holding his hand and letting go of it is almost funny in how sharp it feels. When I touch him, the fog immediately lifts from my mind, memories come back clear and vibrant. The moment he lets go, everything blurs again, and the choking feeling in my throat is back in place.
