I swore you thought I was beautiful.

You drove me home that day, January's cold bitter sky above us. You had driven me home before, but that day felt different than all the other days. It was something in the air, maybe the way the clouds hung low in the sky, draining the color from everything. Like always, I settled into the passenger seat, turning the radio loud, to drown out my mind. You pulled away from the building, finger-tapping the wheel, in time with the bass drum. I watched the clouds and wondered if it was going to snow. I smiled to myself, as thought of snow forts and no school. Called you on the telephone, and asked you to come over. Sent you home, drenched and laughing. I watched my hands, pink and small, compared to your big tan hands. You tugged my arm and told me to look up because it was snowing. I grinned and watched as the snow fell harder and harder. You stopped driving when we reached the twisty road, and said it was unsafe to keep going. So we stopped and I looked at you.

"How was your day?" you asked turning the radio down to a low hum

"Max is failing Spanish," I said "he deserves it"

you laughed, and I swore you looked at me just a little too long. 

"The snow looks like a million tiny dreams," I said

"You're right." You replied, sounding like you had never thought of that till I said it. "it's beautiful." And I swore you meant me, from the way you looked into my eyes. 

I looked into your eyes and gave a silent dare to run into the frozen world. You nodded and tore outside, I grinned and followed. Your eyes sparkled with joy, and I found that I could not look away. It was like you had taken a rope, and tied my heart to yours. You looked at me then, and I saw the snowflakes on your eyelashes. Out of instinct I grabbed your hand, in my own. You jumped and looked down at me,

"Hi." You said 

"Hi." I said

"You have snowflakes on your eyelashes." I said struggling to look away like I knew I should.

You reached up with your free hand and brushed them away, then looked down at me again.

"You have snow in your hair." You said.

"oh." I said reaching up to dust off the flakes.

"Wait." You said catching my hand.

I looked up at you, wondered why you had done that. You moved to brush the snow out of my hair, and I felt my stomach drop down, down, down.

You gently held my chin in your warm hand, and pulled my face up until I had to meet your eyes. 

"Jules." You said voice deep,"can I kiss you?"

I tried to answer, but found my ability to speak had left me. So I nodded instead. I looked into your eyes, coming closer and closer to my own, felt your breath on my lips. I closed my eyes, as I felt your lips meet mine. And I knew, this would not be last time. I would ask for a drive in a snowstorm, because I knew you would dance in falling snow, only to hold me in your arms. I knew I could look into your endless eyes, see those snowflakes, and know you are mine.