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Snowflakes drifted gracefully outside the window as Finney woke up. Albert slept soundly beside him. The entire street was a beautiful white in the dawn light. This was definitely not his time to wake up, especially not on vacation.
Samson noticed he was awake and went to lick his hands. He was a super obedient, protective, and noble dog. He was like Finn's baby.
"Good morning, baby. Do you want to go outside? Yes? Let's go." He got up, trying not to wake Al. He grabbed the first sweater he saw and left the room, heading for the kitchen, followed by the dog.
As soon as he opened the kitchen door, the icy air filled his lungs. He reached out to catch a few snowflakes, which melted instantly from the warmth.
Samson darted through the snow toward the trees at the far end of the backyard. There was at least a good 20 cm of snow, making his legs look much shorter than they were—an ironically endearing sight considering Samson was a Cane Corso.
Samson ran past a mound of snow that had formed near the trees.
Seeing the snowdrift gave him an idea: to make a snowman.
He started shaping the snowdrift. The closest thing to a circle was fine; the middle ball was a bit more work, and the smallest one he made about the size of a volleyball. He didn't want it to be too tall or big.
He didn't have any stones to decorate the face, so it would have to remain faceless, but he didn't want to leave it like that. He had a rather silly idea: Albert's magician's clothes. That shirt and cape that he disliked so much. He rushed inside, trying not to make a sound, took the clothes from the drawer, stepped back out, and hurried to dress the snowman.
The 'Snow Albert' looked good, he looked like... Albert.
He was happy with the result; it wasn't perfect, but what mattered was that he'd had fun making it.
"What are you doing out here so early?" Albert appeared from inside the house, rubbing his eyes.
"I was looking at the snow. Samson was here too, but I think he got cold," he replied, his eyes fixed on his creation.
He walked over to his side. "Why didn't you wake me up to help you?" he asked.
"Before I knew it, I'd finished it, and then I went for this," he tugged a little at the cape. "It looks as ridiculous as you do." He didn't mean it in a bad way, but he couldn't deny that it was funny to see Albert's indignant face.
"Is that my clothing? Do you think I look ridiculous in this?" he asked.
"Of course I do. And yes, the turtleneck suits you better," he replied. It was no secret to Albert that Finn didn't like that red shirt at all, and the cape was... quite over the top.
Al walked over to him, positioning himself behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder.
"I thought you were going to say I looked better without anything on," he whispered in his ear, in that tone that made Finney docile in his presence.
But of course, Finn liked him better when Albert wasn't wearing any clothes, because that was a version of him that only he could see.
"You look ridiculous with or without anything on. I give him two or three hours before Samson knocks him down thinking he's a real person," he joked.
"I'm really surprised he's not here barking. I should take his clothes off before he jumps on him, maybe I can take yours off too afterward" Al and his morning insinuations, typical.
Even though Albert said these things practically every day, Finn couldn't help but get nervous.
"Isn't it a bit early to be saying things like that?" It was a silly question.
"No, it's never too early." It was true, for them it was never too early, they just did it, that's all.
"I'll have breakfast first and then I'm all yours." He always gave in to everything Albert wanted and would continue to do so because he loved him.
"You already are," he whispered and placed a kiss on his neck.
Finn belonged to Albert and Albert belonged to Finn. And nothing could change that.