It's been warmer than average this December, gray, rainy, dark. The mood is reflected in the ambience of the office this afternoon; sleepy, quiet sales calls, the soft rustle of paper. It's calm, almost soothing but not quite. Pam leans her chin on the heel of her hand and takes a moment to gaze out the windows, and she sees it. Like shadows against the gray sky, the rain has turned to snow. It's floating, floating down- puffed up an inch or two on the windowsill. Her stomach does a pleasant little drop, feeling the tingles all the way up her throat like the static electricity of excitement emitting from her heart as she stands up and wordlessly puts her coat on- the soft swish bringing Jim's attention to her as he looks up with his eyebrows cocked, eyes wide and bright, wordlessly asking where she thinks she's going. She feels her smile widen even more, the spark of excitement radiating through her cheeks and her fingertips now as she beckons to him with her mittened hand to come here.
He gets up, the look on his face happier and warmer than she's seen in a week, and it's directed at her, and it's all she can do to keep from collapsing into a heap on the floor. When he's in front of her, towering over her, warm and solid, she wordlessly hands him his coat from the rack, and then grabs his hand as she leads him through the double doors. Through her mittens, she thinks she feels him try to weave his fingers with hers, and it makes her gasp a little and wish that she'd forgotten to bring her mittens today.
He doesn't ask her where they're going as he clumsily tries to put his coat on using one arm- the one with the hand not already occupied with hers. The air is thick between them, and if she hadn't looked outside, she would have thought there was a thunderstorm brewing above them and in the space between their arms and their joined palms.
A laugh is caught in the back of her throat- giddiness she doesn't know how to contain because they are alone together, and it feels intimate, this speaking without speaking, and this leading him to something secret and magical. The hallways on the top floor are empty of people, but full of the buzz and yellow glow of the lights in the ceiling. No windows let onto her secret, and reaching the ladder to the roof, she looks up at him with a huge smile, and he smiles back and looks confused all at once, and it's all she can do to keep from kissing his adorable face.
She starts climbing first, knowing he's reaching up to lightly touch the small of her back, protecting her from falling.
The air smells like snow- clean, and damp, and like a fire in the distance, and reaching the roof, she keeps her eyes on Jim as he steps up. He looks around, and his face blossoms into a smile, morphs to adoration as he looks at her, and she feels so warm she almost doesn't need her coat.
The knitted cotton of her mitten-covered hands surrounding his bare one keeps it warm as they stand there and feel the tickle of the downy flakes slowly melting on their flushed cheeks. It's so magical and bright that she can't help herself from spinning away from him a little, losing sight of her white sneakers in the snow at her feet, tilting her face skyward to catch single flakes on her tongue... and suddenly, she's sliding in the freezing layer of rain underneath the snow, and she's falling and tumbling and dropping flat on her back, her long, blanket of a coat protecting her from the cold, the blanket of snow protecting her from the roof. And she's staring up at the falling flakes which give the illusion of flying through a tunnel of stars when Jim's suddenly kneeling by her side, saying her name in a concerned voice. All she does is laugh, and he plops to the ground next to her, looking relieved and just a bit nauseous, and they're both looking at the sky, and then looking at each other. And it's all she can do to keep herself from telling him she loves him as their hands join together once more in between them, and their breaths mingle and form one cloud above their heads.