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Snow wasn't anything uncommon in Bloxburg, but it came in surprisingly early this year. The ice had already collected a few inches onto the ground—enough for small piles and hills to be made—thankfully soft enough for people to tread over.
Despite the cold temperature, it was one that Mafioso enjoyed. He remembered peering through his window as a kid to watch the snow fall in the dark of the night, pressing his hands to the glass with enough pressure to leave his handprints. These days, despite his busy nature, he'd always like to stand out in the snow and admire the way snowflakes fell before they reached their destination.
Today would be the same, him standing outside of his base and watching the snow fall, his coat protecting him from the mild winds.
He hears the squeakiness of the metal door open and crunched steps begin to walk out to where he was. He remained unphased and staring forward knowing it would either be one of his men or his partner. In this case, it was you.
You wore a set of long-sleeved clothes, a cap, and jacket to keep your warm, but it seemed that you didn't put on a scarf or gloves. You round the corner with your hands tucked under your armpits, occasionally rubbing your arms as you walked outside. You find your husband looking up, snow falling onto his fedora and clothing. You find yourself walking next to him.
"You'd be so easy to look for, wearing all black and covered in snow." You joke.
"I'm wearing some grey. Decided my attire was too bleak."
"Hmm... You're right! It really does pop out, doesn't it?"
He grins. "Glad to see someone noticed something new 'bout me."
You chuckle as you continue to rub your arms. You look to the night sky, occasionally blinking away the snow that fell too close to your eyes. You visibly shiver and sigh, watching the cloud form from your mouth. "Your men are suffocating me. I told them I'd be going outside to look for you and they all banded together to swaddle me like a newborn baby."
"Oh, did they?" He looks down at you, amused.
"Puffer jackets, caps, scarfs that drowned you in itchy wool—they were tearing apart their own closets to keep me from getting sick. They were treating me like a freakin' doll."
Mafioso's shoulders shake as a rumbled laugh escapes.
Despite your annoyance, you find yourself laughing with him. "I-It's NOT funny! You have any idea how many outfits they put on me before I found a way to escape?"
"And how'd you do that?" He tilts his head.
"Told'em I needed to use the bathroom, shredded off some of the clothing, and came out here." You shiver again and aggressively rub your arms to keep yourself warm. "Well, maybe I should've kept a few layers on..."
Your husband hums as he watches you rise your shoulders to your chin, attempting to nuzzle yourself into your jacket.
A moment later, the metal door creaks again. This time, an array of footsteps trample through the snow—Mafioso's goons stumbling to their boss with looks of determination.
"Where's the spouse, boss?" Soldier questions as he balls his fist in the air.
Contractee gestures to Caporegime holding a coat similar to your size. "We heard they wanted to check on you out here, but wanted to make sure they kept warm. We tried layering them up, but they said they went to the restroom, and they weren't there." Soldier nods in affirmation.
Your tracks had disappeared thanks to the snow, leaving Mafioso to merely shrug at his minions. "Hadn't seen 'em out here yet."
Their boss shuffles in place, as if adjusting himself. One of the men notice the small bit of movement—specifically an outline that was prominent around his torso.
"Did you gain weight?" Contractee gestures to his own stomach. The three men move their attention to him, aghast.
"You don't just ask the boss if he gained weight, dumbass!" Consigliere hisses as he smacks him upside the head.
"Yeah! For all we know, it's just some kinda lump in his coat for example!" Soldier justifies.
"Oh yeah? Care to be an example?" Contractee retorts before scooping up a handful of snow and shoving it into Soldier's shirt. Soldier's body shakes and he lets out a shrill as he hops away to shaking his clothes. The men began an all out war, grasping at snow and tossing at each other with no mercy.
Caporegime had even dropped the coat to topple Consigliere, shoving each other into the ground as they shook and tugged at each other, flipping one another to switch their positions.
You feel Mafioso's chest deflate as he lets out an amused huff, cold air dissipating from his nostrils.
You lift yourself up, allowing your head to peak from the black fur trimming his coat and tilt your head to him. "How long do you think it'll take for 'em to see I'm here?"
"Too long. They seem keen on doing this." He muses as he continues to watch his goons battle.
You adjust yourself in the long coat, the fur tickling your chin and cheeks. "Let them. It'll tire them out and get them off my back."
He quietly chuckles. "Not ready to face the music?"
"No. As much as I love them, they're adult men—I can't act like they're my children, Don."
Mafioso shimmies his right arm from his coat's sleeve and places it over your chest, allowing his warm hand to rest on your left collarbone in a comforting manner.
"These children murder for us." He says.
"Yes, yes, they do." You lay your body back onto his torso, watching the men dramatically hold each other like they had fallen to their demise.