Do you wanna build a snowbot? | Damon

Damon curses under his breath when he feels the ice cold snow starting to fall again, countless tiny snowflakes adding to the piles of snow that were poorly shoved out of the way to the small, modest house on top of the hill. He’s got another delivery to make tonight, this is so not what he needs. Cold weather is disgusting.

As soon as he reaches the final step, he comes to a halt. The house he’d been living in for the past couple of years is… bright.

There’s a string of fairy lights hanging over every single window, and a litany of curses comes from the redhead teenage girl that’s dangerously wobbling over a broken chair by the door.

With a frown, he silently crosses the distance between them, stopping with his hands shoved deep in his pockets a few steps from her.

Alisa used to be taller than him when they were younger, yet since he’d turned thirteen this year, he’d grown considerably; now, she’s barely a head taller than him while on top of that chair.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Decorating, what else?” she replies with a scoff. Damon pouts despite his better judgement. No matter how quiet he is, he never gets the jump on her. It’s like she’s got eyes on the back of her head or something, and it’s terribly frustrating.

He pushes the stray thoughts aside. It only meant he had to train harder to get better.

As of now, he’s got more pressing issues to discuss. “I can see that much, but why? Isn’t it dangerous?”

She’s always been adamant that they celebrated Christmas since he moved in (something about it being a lot more fun when she wasn’t on her own, and about him being a much better cook… he never really understood why, it’s not like he’d celebrated it before, but it seemed to make her happy, so he didn’t mind), yet she never hung lights outside. It was dangerous, a shiny beacon in this neighborhood would get them unwanted attention, and it’s not like two scrawny kids living on their own could defend themselves.

“Well,” she turns her head around, bracing against the wall to keep from falling. “Yeah, but I think we’re more than capable of defending ourselves now, don’t you think?”

The smile on her face is so bright it catches him by surprise. He hadn’t seen her this genuinely happy in months. She takes his silence as an answer and turns back to finish

Damon doesn’t have the heart to press the issue. He still thinks it’s a dumb idea, attracting all that trouble just because they were older now, but… oh whatever. It’s not like he’s ever able to talk her out of anything.

The snow starts falling harder, the blankets of snow covering the ground growing thicker by the minute, and an idea strikes him.

With a crooked smirk, Damon moves a few steps away, crouching down to make a large, solid snowball.

“There! I think I’m done now. What do you think?” Alisa calls out from the chair, and Damon bites his own tongue to keep from laughing at his own devilish ideas. She turns her head around, looking for him. “Damon? Dam--!”

Damon hurls the snowball at Alisa, hitting her straight on the face, and he doubles down with laughter at the shocked look on her face as she tumbles down from the chair, falling butt first on the snowy ground.

He’s finally done it!

“You little shit, I’m gonna get ya for this!” She recovers quickly, forcing Damon to get back on his feet and run away, as the two kids start a fun -- albeit incredibly violent -- snowball fight.

It’s a battle of wills, both getting hit and dodging about the same amount of times until they both collapse on the snow. Damon hates the cold, finds snow to be rather disgusting, but he’s having so much fun he doesn’t care that it’s sticking on his hair, his clothes. He doesn’t even mind the amount of times snow got in his mouth.

He’s… happy.

Breathing out another laugh, Damon rolls his head to the side, and finds Alisa trying to blow away some stray snowflakes that landed on her nose.

She looks ridiculous, he thinks, with a smile on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks as she sits up, frowning slightly at his silence. “Do you think it’s best if I take the lights down?”

He… doesn’t know. What’s with all the hard questions?

All he knows is he cares about her, and that if she wants to keep those stupid lights on all night, he doesn’t mind if he has to stay up to keep an eye out. She’s getting her bright Christmas.

Damon shakes his head. The sun is starting to set, and this is usually the time Damon drags her back inside, but today…

Maybe he’s sick. Or maybe it’s a Christmas miracle. But instead of wrapping up the day, Damon simply smiles at Alisa, standing up in a swift motion and offering her a hand up.

“Do you wanna build a snowbot?”