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Snow had fallen all night, leaving the backyard bright and white.
Jake stepped outside early, wearing the ridiculously long scarf Ice had knitted for him last winter.
“Perfect,” he muttered while packing snow in his hands. “Jet, don’t get mad… this is for Ice.”
Jet, sitting by the window, watched him with that classic I know you’re up to something feline glare.
Half an hour later, Jake stepped back to admire his masterpiece:
A snowman with pointy little ears, a twig tail, and two black buttons arranged to mimic Jet’s intense stare.
“Better than the original,” he grinned.
The sliding door opened.
“Jake?” Ice called, still sounding half-asleep.
At that exact moment, Jet bolted outside.
He ran straight toward the snowman… and attacked it with rapid-fire paw slaps.
The snowman’s head wobbled… then fell.
“Jet! You art assassin!” Jake laughed.
Iceman burst out laughing—loud, warm, uncontrollable.
Jake hadn’t heard him laugh like that in weeks.
Blushing from cold and embarrassment, Jake approached him.
“I just wanted… to see you smile. It’s been a long year.”
Ice took Jake by the scarf and pulled him closer.
“Jake… you’re impossible,” he murmured, touching his forehead to Jake’s.
Above them hung a sprig of mistletoe—one Jake had “accidentally” placed the day before.
Ice noticed it.
Jake noticed him noticing.
They both laughed.
The kiss was soft, warm against the freezing morning.
Jet meowed loudly below them, offended that they had forgotten he existed.
Jake hugged Ice tightly.
“I’ll make a less offensive snowman next time.”
“Promise to make one Jet won’t destroy,” Ice replied, kissing him again.