〉mitya (/&) reader、 wc500、 fluff、 written before release、 can be read platonically... probably. my editor says "it has 'we have a crush on each other' vibes but could also definitely be interpreted as being really close friends"、 will update tags/cw after he is released
〉masterlist.
mitya's hands are cold.
it should be expected given snezhnaya's typical temperature — the kresnik's torch only does so much to rid the city of snow flurries and ice. and yet the quickness with which he slides his fingers under your coat sleeve, against your bare skin, and just under the cuff of your glove feels less like a kiss after a cool drink and more like plunging your arm into a snow bank. the gasp you release just makes him smile, quick to apologise and quicker to retreat before the onslaught of attention you're sure to give him. his quiet giggles do little to help his case, your eyes already wide when you turn away from the shop window — darting between bright purple irises, a red nose, and cheeks tinged pink screaming, 'i've been left to the elements for too long'.
the grin doesn't leave his face when you begin your fussing; the routine scolding about keeping warm, the wrapping of half your own scarf around his neck (a scarf he watched you make much too long in length for just one person. perhaps your plan was to wrap him up with you all along?), and the practiced transfer of a glove from your hand to his are completed with a frustrated pout.
after the few minutes of furrowed brows and laughs, mitya is sure the two of you are officially joined at the hip. the scarf is just tight enough to be secure, one of his hands now gloved while the other is intertwined with your own and stuffed deep into your coat pocket. your free hand grabs at his arm, shaking him gently back and forth to get your point across while he giggles and nods in understanding. his spectral arm flies out from behind him to keep your hat from falling, and he's almost surprised you didn't relinquish that as well. although, he's sure you would've if you could see his ears.
you don't seem to realise how close you've pulled him — so close, in fact, that neither of you are sure whose breath you're seeing between you. his free hand is out of his pocket before you know it, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. your arm is trapped against his chest, leaving him free to snuggle his face into your shoulder.
"thank you." he whispers, grin turning a bit mischievous as he moves your scarf down slightly, pressing his ice-cold nose against your neck.
the shriek you release has him pulling away, thoroughly amused by how lightly you smack at his chest — in either annoyance or embarrassment, he's never sure. you slowly straighten yourself, shooting him a glance before tugging him away from the shop.
"you've gotta take care of yourself, mitya — i don't need you freezing to death!"
"i know, i know..." he laughs, hoping you'll drag him all over the city before you have to part ways.
his hands may be freezing, but you always make him feel so, so warm.