Reed’s pov

It’s snowing.

“Say can I ask you a question?” she asked still looking out the window.

“What comes of snow when its melt?” I smirked at the obvious question.

“Water obviously.”

“Bzzt.” she chuckled. “Spring comes dummy.”

“Spring is my favourite season.” She whispered, her voice like soft chime of wind.

She was my spring. My favourite season. I was snow. I’d frozen somewhere along the line in darkness, in my dark cage and she was a fresh bright spring.

I fell in love like it was a logical necessity.

“Don’t reject me. I am glad I met you. Falling in love with you bought me happiness.” I...