"It's just, you know, lonely when Roger's gone," she says, and you nod dumbly. You could say all sorts of things – you used to feel that way all the time, when it was just you and Roger in a tiny apartment together, and he'd go away for a couple days, though then it had been visiting family rather than touring with his band. Instead of saying any of those things, which would make you sound smart, or at least not an idiot, you can only stare at her and take note of the way winter light falls on her face, how the snow rests to lightly on auburn hair, or her smile, that's like a ray of pure sunlight...

April doesn't seem to know you're watching.

She gasps and shivers as the two of you walk underneath a tree and it chooses just then to dump some of the snow from its branches, so it lands on the back of her neck, sliding a little down her coat. That's perfect and beautiful too, the rounded shape of her mouth as she gasps, the graceful way her shoulders move as she hunches then. You realize you're composing shots in your mind, and drag your thoughts away from that.

"Let's go find a coffee shop somewhere," you tell her. "Somewhere warm. I'll buy you coffee."

She smiles and asks eagerly, "Can I have hot chocolate instead?" Your heart gives a single, painful, joyful throb at the fact that that smile is, at the moment, all for you.