Vinter Vonderland for Valentine's

He walked, dragged through the snow by the inexorable yank of an impatient dog. It was basically perfect out. Snow had fallen the night before, the wet sticky kind that clung to the trees and made over hovels into Currier and Ives prints. He cut down an alley, enjoying the secret perspective it gave him on all these grand homes, subdivided three ways into dignified squats, bohemian catnip with extra gables. He had to use a bathroom pretty bad, but his sister, the only person he knew in this neighborhood, was not home, and he was not about to leave his crazy dog unattended. The air hovered near freezing, just cold enough to eat the sweat from his brow as it emerged, shuffling down the not-really-cleared sidewalks, up and down hills, tripping occasionally on the boobytrapped pavement cracks under the blanket of snow.

She was working; she had to work almost every weekend. He resented every minute they had to spend apart. Of course, no way in Hades would she walk the dog in the snow for this long, but the principle still stood. The dog dragged her face along the ground, trying to free her schnozz from the hated Halti collar, but also just enjoying the frozen water, the sheer slidiness of it all.

She had been crying the night before because of the snow. She hated it. Hate hate hate. She hated driving in it, she hated the cold (defined as anything under 80), she hated the humidity in the brief season it was NOT cold, she hated not having any friends around, she hated their crappy trailer park, she hated her job. Only love of him kept her nailed to the ground. He wanted stronger roots for her. But his....his were all right here. Waz conundrum. He kicked a clump of snow in frustration. Particles showered the dog, who looked around in canine tongue loll confusion for a moment, then dragged her snout on the ground for half a block or so.