Chapter 15. Snow Walk
1424 Words
Arielle North had never walked through snow without slipping at least three times, spraining one ankle, and—on two memorable occasions—accidentally kicking a toddler’s snowman in the face.
So when Noah Reed offered her his hand and said, “Come on, walk with me,” she hesitated like he’d invited her to stroll across a frozen minefield.
“It’s just snow,” he said, shaking his head, amused.
“Snow has a personal vendetta against me,” she replied. “It’s been trying to kill me since birth.”
Noah laughed, that warm, rumbling sound that made the cold seem less sharp. “You’re dramatic.”
“And you’re dangerously optimistic,” she shot back.
But she still took his hand.
The holiday market behind them glowed with warm lights and the buzz of laughter. Now they stepped into the quieter street where the snow fell soft and steady, the world muffled except for the crunch beneath their boots.
Noah’s fingers were warm, strong, steady. Meanwhile Arielle gripped him like she was trying to keep herself from being abducted by an invisible snow demon.
“You know,” he said, glancing at their linked hands, “most people relax when they hold someone’s hand.”
“I’m not most people. I’m a health hazard.”
“Health hazards don’t smile like that.”
She stiffened. “I’m not smiling.”
“You absolutely are.”
She absolutely was.
---
The snowflakes drifted around them like soft glitter, landing on Noah’s dark hair, sticking to his coat, melting on her scarf. It felt like stepping into a Christmas card—one of those perfect ones that made people with chaotic lives jealous.
Except Arielle wasn’t jealous. She was… captivated.
And terrified.
The Lucky Magic rule echoed in the back of her mind:
To activate the gift, romance must bloom.
To deny it is to lose your luck forever.
Her heart, unfortunately, seemed very determined to bloom.
Noah kicked at a pile of snow, hands in pockets now that she wasn’t hanging onto him for dear life. “So… your luck seems better today.”
“Are you kidding?” she muttered. “Today started with me slamming my head on a kitchen cabinet.”
“That’s normal.”
“For you, maybe,” she said. “For me it’s the universe throwing hands.”
He nudged her shoulder lightly. “Ari, nothing catastrophic happened at the market. No explosions. No fires. The lights didn’t even blink.”
“Which just proves my point,” she whispered dramatically. “Something is coming.”
He slowed. “You really expect disaster?”
“Always. The universe is like… ‘Oh she’s relaxed? UNACCEPTABLE.’”
He snorted. “You’re weird.”
“Thank you. I take pride in that.”
---
They walked further until the street opened into a quiet park. Trees dusted in white, benches half-covered, a small frozen fountain glowing under the string lights someone had lovingly hung.
Noah looked around. “This is my favorite spot in the neighborhood.”
Arielle blinked. “You have a favorite snow location?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“Hush.”
She grinned again.
They sat on a bench, the metal cold through their coats, but the closeness made up for it. Their shoulders brushed. His breath clouded in the air. Her heart thumped with absolutely no self-control.
“So tell me,” he said, turning slightly toward her, “why do you think you have bad luck? Like… really think.”
She opened her mouth—but paused.
No one had ever asked her that. People joked, pitied, or avoided her. But Noah looked like he genuinely wanted to understand.
“Well…” she began, drawing in a breath. “Every holiday something goes wrong. Every. Single. Year. Trees fall. Presents vanish. Food burns. Plans collapse. People get injured—sometimes strangers, sometimes me. I even once knocked down an entire Christmas display by sneezing.”
He choked on a laugh. “A sneeze?”
“It was a powerful sneeze.”
“I’m sure.”
She nudged him. “Anyway. It’s like the holidays and I are in a toxic relationship. They refuse to love me back.”
Noah’s expression softened in a way that made her stomach somersault. “Maybe this year is different.”
“No,” she whispered. “It can’t be. Not unless…”
She caught herself.
Not unless the Lucky Magic activates.
Not unless romance blooms.
Not unless she lets it.
Noah tilted his head. “Not unless what?”
“Nothing!” she said too quickly, waving a hand and almost smacking him in the face. “Oops—sorry. Continue.”
He grabbed her wrist gently. “Careful. Assaulting me won’t help your holiday reputation.”
“It was an accident!”
“I’ve noticed that’s your favorite sentence.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. He laughed again.
Her wrist stayed in his hand.
She felt the warmth travel up her arm like a slow spark.
---
They sat quietly after that, watching snow settle on the empty playground. The air smelled of pine and cinnamon drifting from the market.
A soft light blinked overhead.
Arielle tensed. “That light just flickered.”
“It didn’t.”
“It did.”
“It didn’t.”
“NOAH IT—”
The light glowed steady. Soft. Calm.
No buzzing. No sparks. No explosion.
Her jaw dropped. “It stayed on.”
He raised a brow. “Is that… shocking?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Lights hate me.”
“Well,” he said, nudging her knee with his, “maybe this one likes you.”
“Impossible.”
“It’s literally glowing over your head.”
She squinted up. The warm halo made her auburn hair shimmer, giving her a soft golden outline.
Noah stared at her for a moment—longer than he should have.
Her cheeks heated. She pulled her scarf up to hide. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m… glowing.”
“You are.”
Her scarf slipped.
He was still looking.
Her heart malfunctioned.
---
She stood abruptly. “We should walk back!”
He laughed but rose with her. “Relax. I’m not going to bite.”
“Good,” she said, stepping away, “because with my luck you’d chip a tooth.”
“No one has ever been so determined to threaten my dental health.”
They walked again, but something had shifted.
The air between them felt warmer.
Her hand swung close to his. Close enough that he could take it again if he wanted.
He did.
He laced their fingers without hesitation.
She stared at their joined hands. “Noah…”
“Yes?”
“You’re holding my hand.”
He glanced down. “You’re not screaming. That’s progress.”
“I’m internally screaming.”
“That sounds right.”
Snowflakes landed on their hands, melting instantly. Arielle felt a soft hum—gentle, warm—radiating from her chest. A fluttering warmth that didn’t feel dangerous at all.
It felt like…
Magic.
Noah stopped walking. “You okay?”
“Totally fine!” she squeaked. “Just—warm. Very warm. Weirdly warm. Suspiciously warm.”
He touched her forehead. “You have a fever?”
“No! Just emotions!” she blurted, then immediately regretted breathing.
He froze.
She froze.
The snow felt suddenly louder.
“Oh?” Noah said slowly. “Emotions?”
She waved frantically. “No—NO—I didn’t mean those emotions. Just like… regular emotions. Emotion-ish feelings. Holiday feelings. Festive feelings. Feelings that have NOTHING to do with you. Or me. Or us. Or anything at all in the romance category. Zero. Absolutely none. Negative romance. Anti-romance. We are basically two pine trees walking—”
He burst out laughing.
She groaned. “Stop laughing! I’m spiraling!”
“No,” he said, squeezing her hand softly, “you’re adorable.”
Arielle’s brain exploded.
Not literally—shockingly.
Another tiny miracle.
They continued walking, hand in hand, through the thick, falling snow. The lights stayed steady. The path stayed clear. No slip. No disaster. No chaos.
For the first time in her life, winter felt warm.
And she didn’t know whether to be terrified…
Or grateful.
Because maybe—just maybe—
Her luck was changing.
Or… someone was changing it for her.
- Writer
