Esme was jolted back to reality by the sound of Althea's soft chuckle, and in front of her stood Acheron, looking somewhat abashed. When she didn't respond right away, he took a step forward, his expression remorseful.
"I'm so sorry!" he blurted, his voice tinged with guilt. "The snowball wasn't meant for you, I swear. I was aiming for Lothario!" He gestured at Lothar, who lingered a few paces behind Esme. He smirked slightly, while Althea gave a knowing nod.
Esme's lips curled into a mischievous smile, but then she dropped to her knees, scooping a generous handful of snow, her blue eyes sparkling with playful intent. Before Acheron could fully react, she let the snowball fly, hitting him squarely on the shoulder.
He gasped, momentarily stunned by her retaliation, while Esme burst into a sudden laughter, her amusement contagious as Althea, who was shocked moments ago, quickly joined her, but she stifled them by covering her mouth with her gloved palms.
