She walked slowly, taking in the sight. A small bench near the tree caught her eye, dusted with faint snow drifting in through the open window. Hiten was already there, casually leaning against it, hands stuffed in his pockets, a soft smile lighting his face. His navy sweater looked warm and cozy — he held a small steaming cup in his hand.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said gently.

Aarya blinked, wrapping her scarf tighter around her. “Wait… why are you here so early?”

“Come on,” Hiten said, extending the cup toward her. “Strong coffee. We’re going for a little walk on the school grounds before the students take over.”

Aarya huffed but took the cup, sipping quietly. The warmth spread through her hands and chest. “Fine… but only because you brought me strong coffee.”

They walked silently for a few minutes, the crisp winter air brushing their faces. At the backside of the school garden, they found an empty bench. Hiten sat down, patting the space beside him. Aarya joined him, her breath forming tiny clouds.

“You know,” Hiten started quietly, “I saw a ghost here in my dream. I wanted to see it for myself in real life, so I thought I should bring Miss Angry Muffin with me. By bringing her along, the ghost wouldn’t dare touch me… and exactly that happened.” He said it teasingly.

Aarya tilted her head mischievously. “You’re lying.”

Hiten smirked, a small smile tucked at his lips. “Caught me red-handed.”

She nudged him gently. “Why… did you actually come here?”

“Because I wanted to be here with you. This morning felt like it needed… someone to share it with.”

Aarya’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You know… I always thought winter mornings could be boring. But… this isn’t. Not with you here.”

He looked at her, eyes soft. “That’s the point. Some moments… they’re only perfect if shared.”

They sat in comfortable silence — the distant school bells ringing softly, leaves rustling gently around them.

Later, as the school day officially began, a small Christmas celebration took place in the hall. Students and teachers gathered, and Aarya had prepared something special — a small box of homemade chocolates, carefully wrapped in red paper with a tiny ribbon.

She handed it to him with a shy smile.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered softly.

Hiten took the box, surprised. “You made these?”

“Yes,” she replied. “So if you don’t like them… at least pretend.”

He smiled, opening the lid. The rich cocoa aroma filled the air. “If it’s from you… even bitter chocolate tastes sweet.”

Aarya chuckled, hiding her blush.

After a while, the teacher turned toward Hiten. “Hiten… would you play the guitar again, like you did on the trip?”

Hiten glanced at Aarya, who gave a quiet nod. He took a deep breath and sat down under the fairy lights near the stage. Students quieted down, the soft murmur of excitement fading into anticipation.

He strummed the first few chords, letting them resonate gently. Then, slowly, he began to sing — a song that felt like a story, a confession, and a memory all at once.

Hiten named it “Snow and Rain,” and told everyone to clap along with the beat before beginning.

The snow fell quiet, soft and slow,

Yet your smile made the cold winds glow.

I searched for warmth in every flame,

But it whispered softly — only one name.

When winter came, the nights grew long,

You became the rhythm to my song.

The rain returned, the clouds again,

But I found peace just saying your name.

You’re the calm after storms that stay,

My morning sun on a frozen day.

If snow can melt with just one touch,

Then your love… is far too much.

Aarya’s eyes glistened, reflecting the soft lights. She listened quietly, hands clasped together, her heart swelling. The room was silent, every student captivated by the warmth and depth of his voice, the way his fingers danced across the strings.

When the last chord faded, applause erupted. Hiten stood, bowing slightly, cheeks tinged pink, but his gaze remained fixed on her. She smiled, softly whispering, “You made Christmas… real this year.”

Hiten chuckled. “It already was. You just made me notice it.”

As the evening fell, Hiten and Aarya walked out of the hall, the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet. No teasing, no banter — just warmth, peace, and an unspoken promise between them.

Before heading home, Aarya leaned against him lightly, whispering, “I’m glad… we spent it like this.”

Hiten smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Me too… Miss Muffin.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You never miss a chance, huh?”

He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Never. And proud of it.”

The snow continued to fall lightly, the lights twinkled in the distance, and the winter night held them close as they walked home — two hearts quietly celebrating the warmth they had found in each other.