Outside, the world has gone quiet under a fresh layer of white. You find her there at the window, cheeks flushed pink from the cold seeping through the glass, fingertips tracing patterns in the frost.

She turns toward you slowly, bottom lip caught between her teeth, wearing nothing but an oversized knit that keeps slipping off one bare shoulder. The snow throws pale light across her skin in a way that makes your breath catch.

She whispers that she loves days like this — nowhere to go, no reason to get dressed. Her eyes say she's been waiting for you to agree.