Work Text:
Winter had never been his favorite season. Living in a cold land didn't mean he had to like it— on the contrary, he had grown to loathe it. His entire life, all he had seen was snow and the white landscape had become a bit too depressing for his taste, like winter that never went away. But you had come like spring into his life, the ice on his heart had somehow begun to thaw and he himself didn't know how this had happened. He'd never been a man of petty affections, and he couldn't understand how did you even persist with him despite his many attempts to drive you away.
Had you not heard? He was someone who had been stripped of his pride and honor. Were you out of your mind when you thought you could change the beast? Did you think you could turn him into a prince? That was such a foolish dream of yours, and a laughable one. If only you knew what kind of man he was, you would surely back away from him in disgust.
"Vova?"
He cringed just a bit at the sound of the pet name you had found for him, if only because it reminded him of his mother so much. She was the only one who had called him that way and he wondered why he allowed you to do it now. Perhaps he didn't want to admit that you were special on your own right, and that was why he never had the courage to be cruel towards you— unnecessarily cruel, that was.
"What is it?" he mumbled with impatience, watching as you gave him that silly smile of yours— a smile he wished he could wipe from your pretty face. Still, in some strange way he enjoyed seeing you like this, happy and oblivious to the horrors of the world— the horrors he had seen and perpetrated. Then again, he reminded himself that if you knew what kind of being he truly was, there was no doubt you would fear him. There was no doubt you would leave him.
The rustle of fabric caught his attention, unexpectedly, and he felt a light pressure around his neck. Had it been another person, he wouldn't have let them lay a single finger on him but there was no evil or threat in you— only the danger of letting his guard down for too long around you. Only the peril of having his heart stolen if he put it in your hands. It was funny how he could even believe that he had one, after becoming a devil that many feared and hated.
"I made this for you. I know you don't like the cold weather, so maybe this will help keep you warm."
He looked down as you wound the thick gray scarf around him, and how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to reach for him. It was so annoying you were so small and fragile, so easy to break and hurt. It made him mad, sometimes, because he shouldn't be wasting his time with a woman like you. Yet here he was, watching the snow fall outside as his fingers unconsciously fidgeted with the piece of knitting you had gifted him. It was warm and soft, much like you were, and he tried not to smile too much at the happiness in your eyes when he said thanks. He tried not to laugh at the blush on your face when he conveyed secret feelings that he was not supposed to say.
For all the memories he had treasured as a child, there was nothing that could match the warmth of your lips that cold night.