Rays of sunlight reflected brightly from the lush ivory carpet, flooding through frosted panes of glass and filling the chamber as if summer had somehow escaped the clutches of the season. Blue sky expanded above, nary a cloud to mar the azure heavenly slate. Behind the cabin, across frozen fields, fresh December snow dusted a myriad of evergreens.

At the edge of the field, before garden converged into meadow, a snowman stood, complete with coal eyes, carrot nose, crimson hat and twig arms. Flakes of pristine icy powder sparkled upon the crest of the beret, salt crystals upon rosy velvet. The silent gentleman smiled knowingly.

Alone now, she sighed softly. If she closed her eyes again, dreams might capture her, perchance to return her into vaguely remembered warmth of gentle fingers flitting across her naked skin. Temptation of sleep beckoned.

Reflected rays of sunshine kissed her cheek warmly, contrasting the waves of cold radiating from the frigid glass hovering beside the bed. She sighed again, curling further under the deep covers, her fingers pulling the plush comforter to her chin, clean sheets sliding sensuously across her bare skin below.

She turned her gaze to the virgin vision outside, a twitch of her full lips betraying her thoughts. Her teeth bit pensively at her lower lip.

Outside: cold and hauntingly beautiful. Inside: safe under her covers, oh, so pleasantly warm.

Fingertips trailed unhurriedly from the base of her throat, between her breasts, across the flatness of her belly. Paused. Her breathing quickened, pulse matching. The sheets caressed her thighs, her toes. An inadvertent gasp escaped her lips as her fingers slipped lower.

In her mind, he lay beside her, his fingers instead of hers tracing across her bared hip, down her naked thigh, his breath burning against the nape of her neck, abandoning to passion and animalistic intensity.

With a quiet moan, she pulled her fingers from between her thighs, circling her naked breasts once, teasing her sensitive nipples, tracing silken curves. Finally, her hands resting securely beneath her cheek, she pulled her legs up and turned to her side, nestling under the reassuring weight of the covers.

Her breathing gradually returned to normal; her pulse slowed until the throbbing in her ears faded.

Outside, the man of snow and ice smiled radiantly in the morning sunshine beneath his jaunty Christmas beret. Somewhere beyond, a grey squirrel foraged for scraps, cascading innocence from the pine needles.

Reaching to the left, her hopeful fingers found nothing but a gentle indent. Beside her, his place remained empty, his warmth fading, leaving only the snowman to watch over her.

He would return shortly, she knew, and she would wait for him.

Oh, she missed him.