...
The weather on Christmas was unpredictable.
It was snowing all night. When Riya woke up in the morning, the entire city was covered by snow.
In the air was a faint chill.
It was a little comfortable and a little gratifying.
As soon as Riya's hand touched the snow on the ground, a large hand pulled her over.
Stefan held her hands. He frowned and said in a low voice, "Cold."
Riya curled her lips indifferently with a bit of disdain, "I'm not afraid of the cold. You're a man, how can you be so weak?"
With that, she pulled her hand out of Stefan's grip, bent down, grabbed a handful of snow, and threw it over.
The snowflakes scattered on the man's chest and left a snow-white mark on his black cashmere coat.
The man looked down at her and calmly warned, "Take care."
Riya was not afraid of his ice-cold face. She grabbed the snow on the ground and throw it over again.
With a triumphant face, she said, "I like snow games. I like it!"
She ran away in the snow.
