Squashed against the cushions was a throw pillow with a soft embroidered pattern that he fluffed and set back down. The grey couch, while being the largest piece of furniture in the room, was shorter than Ranboo, which left his feet hanging off of the end, but he had slept on it enough times to have mastered the contortionism necessary to fit his limbs. An armchair, coffee table, and couch fit snugly in the room around the slowly dying fire on the hearth. “Good,” Tubbo said, unrolling his sleeves, “let me go grab the sheets,” Ranboo took one more swig from his hot chocolate and made his way to the living room. “Yeah, I’ll stay on the sofa, it’s not worth it to walk,” Ranboo took a tentative sip of his hot chocolate. Tubbo’s shaggy hair almost completely blocked his eyes but the message was clear. “Now that’s new snow coming down, it’s not just wind,” He turned to face Ranboo, crossing his arms over chest. “Yeah I guess you don’t have one,” The water from the sink shut off and Tubbo dried his hands on the kitchen towel, returning his gaze to the window
“Maybe we can build a nether portal,” Tubbo pondered. He kept his ears nervously trained on the floorboards above him, just in case he had to climb up the ladder again and tuck his son back into bed. Ranboo would feel bad about not being able to wash dishes if he hadn’t just spent the last half hour getting Michael to lie down in bed. “Yeah and you’ve got to walk back in it, bossman,” Tubbo said, plunging his hands back into the sink. From Ranboo’s perspective, he could only see Tubbo’s face reflected back at him on the glass.
At the sink, Tubbo leaned closer to the window to watch the snow, following the rays of light seeping out of the house and into the dark night. Another gust of wind rushed against the corner of the small house. He held a mug of hot chocolate with his fingertips, lifting and repositioning his grip to not burn his hands on the ceramic. The echoing wind seemed to be right at his back, but thankfully the sturdy walls kept him warm, as did the soft yellow light from the lanterns around the room.
Ranboo also found himself at the house one night, seated at the kitchen table hours after the sun had set and dinner had been piled into the sink. Snow flying through the air also swirled around Tubbo’s small house, the beacon of comfort that housed himself and Michael. In the spots where no one walked were lighter layers of fallen snow that were picked up by the wind and tossed throughout the small country, often landing in built up banks along the sides of the mansion. The deepest layer was frozen and packed by footsteps, preventing the grass from reaching the sunlight. The grounds of Snowchester were covered by a thick layer of snow, which never completely melted before a new snowfall would redecorate the land.
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