Matthew and I went walking after the snowfall when we both felt something but didn’t have the words to explain it. We slid and slipped our way to the Hall, detouring through the avenue of trees he hadn’t been to all year and I had never been at all.

There were lines cutting into the snow, exposing the crisp grass beneath. I’d come here earlier and seen the desperate snowboarders racing each other down the incline, reminiscing about the mountains and hoping fervently that this wasn’t the last snowfall of the season. They had all gone now, so Matthew and I lay down where the hill was flattest and the snow thickest. Our heads closest then they had been for days, we made a V shape, pointing towards the Hall. We shivered slightly, but neither with any intention of moving for hours.

He talked while I lay with my eyes closed, just listening to his politics. Turning, I snatch a glance- the sun is low and hazy and we’re surrounded by an oxygen blue. He’s been soaked in it, thawing out the ground with snow on his coat, fist in his eye to guard against glare; he smiles snow blue teeth and tells me he’s never been happier.