Scribble: 'Tis the season.

      Little crystals of white drift through the endless night sky, floating atop the chill currents of winter. Somewhere in the distance, a flash of color bursts into the air, fine lines of light fading into the clouds and snow. Explosions ring out, forever out of place with the sparkling, still ground, so wrapped up in its cold blanket.
      And yet, in that single moment, that same sparkle slips into her eyes, and shines from the brightness of her smile. The fireworks fade, trails of smoke swallowed by the clouds in the sky, but without so much as a sound, the night is made alight once more, as a laugh slips away from her lips to dance between flakes of white. A single gasp, a meeting of lips, and soon, not even the brightest of lights can match the quiet moment on the ground below.
      And somewhere, dreams of blankets to rival even the vast sheet of winter float within hearts, little bursts of light that never fade.