Yuuri took the hint, and he and Viktor walked off. He noticed that VIktor was stepping slowly in the snow. He must be listening to the crunch, getting used to the feeling under his boots. 'Adorable,' Yuuri thought. It appeared from the footprints that they were the second or third ones up here since the last snowfall, and so there were still vast expanses of untouched snow.

They moved towards the lake, and Viktor's pace quickened until he was walking ahead of Yuuri. The margin between where the shore ended and the lake began was blurred. The tips of withered, unidentifiable plants poked up out of the snow.

Abruptly, Viktor stopped. With a smooth motion, he untied his cloak and swept it off.

"Will you hold this for me, Yuuri?" Yuuri obliged, curious and a tad apprehensive. Viktor unfolded his dazzling wings and spread them wide. He flapped them a couple of times, as if testing that they still worked. "Ah, it's too cold for me to really fly." He fluttered his wings, and his feet hovered a few inches off of the ground. He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

Then he flew forwards, frighteningly far out into the lake (It was only about 40 feet or so). He lowered down slowly, toes to heels, and Yuuri heard his boots click quietly against the ice. Viktor took a step, and his legs almost slipped out from under him. He steadied himself with the aid of his wings and spreadeagled arms, then turned to face Yuuri.

Viktor's face was flushed and his eyes were wide in exhilaration. He laughed, and Yuuri cried, "Come back! You could fall in!"

Out there, Viktor was a fragment of crimson surrounded by stark white in all directions. He stood, a sweet rose- blooming despite all odds in the midst of bitter winter. Viktor took another step and the ice sheet released an echoing groan. Freezing panic strangling his body, Yuuri instinctively lurched forwards to foolishly run out there and rescue VIktor, but he was already gliding back.

Viktor alighted in the snow, right into Yuuri's waiting arms. Yuuri tightly embraced him, pressing his face into his shoulder. His heart still thumped in fear. He had been so terrified that the ice would crack like glass and Viktor would plunge into the deadly depths below. Viktor was all softness and a light floral scent, so tangible and real in his hold. Yuuri could feel his pulse, singing "alive, alive" and was greatly reluctant to release him.

As they parted, Viktor's fingers brushed against Yuuri's ear.

"Ah, I'm freezing!" Viktor cried, bundling up in his cloak once again. Yuuri swallowed, and didn't say anything. Viktor's cupid's bow lips arched into a smile. "Yuuuuri. Are you mad at me?" Viktor hooked his arm over Yuuri's shoulders.

"No," Yuuri denied, but didn't make eye contact.

"I feel like you are." Viktor traced his fingertips along the fold of the collar of Yuuri's peacoat.

"I… I'm not."

"Yuuri." Viktor guided Yuuri's face towards him. "Look at me."

"Okay! Fine. I just… what were you thinking?"

Viktor's expression dimmed. "I just wanted to see what it was like, I'm sorry." Yuuri's frustration dissipated immediately.

"It's alright, but please be more careful. I… don't want anything bad to happen to you." This sentiment was one that frequently manifested in Yuuri's thoughts, his dreams. His deepest fear, lurking in his mind at all times, was Viktor getting hurt in some way. Viktor nodded. He must have understood how Yuuri was feeling, to some extent. At last, their eyes met, and Viktor pulled Yuuri into another hug.

"I will," he promised. Yuuri picked up the basket and together they walked up a slope and into the forest. Sheepishly, Yuuri recalled all of the times that he had fantasized going on a date with him like this, and he was rather embarrassed about it. Was this a date? They did everything together, but something felt different today.

The couple of them trudged through the snow, and came to a bench beneath a large Douglas fir tree that had been largely sheltered from forming a thick layer of snow. Yuuri brushed off the powdery dusting that was there and sat down. Viktor joined him at his side, and he set down the picnic basket at his other. It would probably be more practical to have the basket between them, but of course they wanted to sit next to each other.

Yuuri handed Viktor a sandwich atop an embroidered napkin. Viktor thanked him, then took a bite. He paused. Yuuri glanced at him inquisitively before beginning to eat his own sandwich. He understood at once why Viktor had only taken a mouthful.

"Perhaps we should have packed some warm food." The cucumbers, chilled by the outside temperature, were nearly frozen. Viktor laughed, and ate some more. He swallowed.

"Hm, I think you're right." His eyes glittered with mirth. They finished them anyways, but abstained from the sushi.

"We can eat it on the way home?" Yuuri suggested, to Viktor's agreement. The sweet buns and kabocha were somehow still warm, and so they split one of the fluffy golden buns and snacked on the juicy orange squash slices. Yuuri withdrew the frigid apple cider bottle and realized that he did not pack any cups. Thoughts of indirect kisses flew through his mind, but he realized that the cider within the bottle was an icy slurry and so it was tucked away again.

Bone-chilling wind passed through, and Yuuri leaned closer to Viktor for warmth. White snowflakes sprinkled down from above and onto Viktor's lap.

"It's snowing?" he queried. Two sets of eyes turned upwards.

"Oh, from the branches," Yuuri mused. They both kept looking at those needled branches, as if something was going to happen. Silence accumulated like a snowdrift growing in a blizzard. Yuuri had so many thoughts whirling around in his head, half-coherent sentences taking shape and then breaking apart when they didn't feel quite right. 'I love you' was suffocating him, unable to escape. The very thought of saying those three words made his pulse quicken. So many things could go wrong; the more he dwelled on it, the more anxious he became.

And so, Yuuri continued to soundlessly suffer.

"It's beautiful..." Viktor said quietly, looking out into the serene winter scene. The dark, rigid trunks of the ancient trees were a striking contrast against the pillowy, white snowdrifts. Peering into the deep woods, it seemed as if they stretched on forever.

Viktor lowered his head and lifted himself onto his feet. He briskly brushed off his skirts and adjusted his cloak. The bright light of the winter sky behind him illuminated the edges of his silver hair, which glimmered like the crystalline icicles burdening the trees as a second harvest. His cheeks were pink, his eyes were bright, and his smile was playful.

He leaned down, a heavenly being descending to the mortal plane, his ponytail slipping over his shoulder. His knuckles brushed against Yuuri's cheek; they were cold, and Yuuri shivered. Viktor gently took his hands and helped him up. He drifted into the middle of the clearing, the tips of Yuuri's fingers resting on his lightly.

Viktor turned to face him, his skirts a whirl of crimson. Slowly, he guided Yuuri's hand to rest on his slender shoulder, and wrapped onto Yuuri's waist. Their free hands were interwoven in the way that a painting is completed- bit by bit, until the picture comes together as a unified whole. Yuuri's fingers grazed the sewn-closed fabric where Viktor's right index finger would have been had he not lost it. Beneath the glove, he knew that only scar tissue remained and that it was completely healed.

They had come so far, the two of them.

A tiny snowflake floated down and kissed Viktor's nose, melting upon impact. They both gazed at the sky, and the snowflakes appeared dark silver against the backdrop of the glaringly white clouds. They were falling in earnest now. A scattering of fragile, individual pieces twirled down to land wherever the breeze carried them. Viktor and Yuuri mirrored them, waltzing to the music of a silent forest that was marked only by the sound of their own fogging breaths and crisp footsteps in the virgin snow.

Yuuri had never before felt so light and carefree; he weighed the same as a handful of feathers. He almost wondered if it was some kind of fairy magic making him feel this way, but dismissed the notion. Their movements were fluid, synchronized. Each touch carried a thousand unspoken words, each step and elegant spin bore their profound feelings. They were not performing an existing dance, but rather moving in the flow of how they felt- it was a push and pull of compromise, understanding. There were no dancing etiquette rules out here, underneath the great fir tree and surrounded by a flurry of snow.

The snowflakes began to clump together into fluffy pieces that stuck to their hair and clothing. Yuuri's heart thudded heavily, as if it was a mighty drumbeat to awaken the forest from its hibernation. They swayed slowly, two porcelain dancers in a wind-up snow globe. Their motions grew slower and slower, until they came to a halt. They paused there, still clinging to each other. Viktor filled Yuuri's vision, crimson and silver, pink and aquamarine. He was all he could focus on.

As Yuuri searched Viktor's eyes, he felt that everything was clear. It was as if the snow was filling in the gaps in his understanding.

Viktor released his grasp and slid his gloved hand to the back of Yuuri's neck, tenderly combing through the shaggy hair at his nape. Yuuri's air caught in his throat, and a part of him dazedly questioned if this was reality or a figment of his daydreams. The touch on his waist vanished, and he registered that Viktor was holding his chin ever-so-gently. It sent his skin shivering. Viktor leaned closer, and they shared warm breaths in the cold air enveloping them. Yuuri's eyes drifted closed, the intensity of Viktor's gaze too strong for his self-conscious heart.

Then Viktor pressed his lips against Yuuri's, and they were every bit as delicate and soft as Yuuri had imagined they'd be.