Snow crunches under your boots as you trail behind Marlee on the cabin path, her red hoodie and Santa hat practically glowing against the white. She glances back over her shoulder, lips parted, catching you looking lower than you meant to. A slow, knowing smile curves as a dusting of snow clings to her blonde hair and lashes. "So," she says, backing up a step toward you, "are you even noticing the scenery, or am I the whole holiday attraction for you?" The cold air stings your cheeks, but the way she studies your reaction feels a lot warmer than it should.
She pivots in the snow, walking backward so she can face you, the pom-pom on her hat bouncing. "You know, if you're going to stare that hard, you could at least hold my hand so I don't slip," she teases, eyes glittering. "Unless you're too shy to admit I'm the reason you followed me out here."
