Pissed.

The snow was yellow. I couldn’t help but look at the ground with utter disgust. Snow was supposed to be pure, white, gorgeous. Not yellow and disgusting. I looked around me to see who it was that had stained the snow. I was going to slap whoever it was sooooooooooo hard that they'll wish they were dead.

There were only a few people around. One was an old man with a cane, throwing bread crumbs behind him every step he took. I was pretty sure it wasn’t him. There was a gang of little girls, throwing snowballs at each other. They wouldn’t have done it.

Then there was some guy that looked about my age, kind of tall, brown hair, and a face that I couldn’t get a good look at because he kept spinning around in circles. I rolled my eyes. Maybe there was something mentally wrong with him. I didn’t want to go over and slap him and it turn out that he was mentally retarded.

At least I could go talk to him. I'd wait to slap him.

I made my way over to him. He was still spinning around. That man probably had no intentions of stopping. Too bad I was going to make him.

"Excuse me," I said, doing my best to tap him on the shoulder. Instead of his shoulder, I hit him somewhere in the chest. Kind of hard, I must say.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, stopping his spinning. He turned around and faced me. And he was good looking. I didn’t want him to be good looking, though. I mean, he's either mentally retarded or I have to slap him so hard that he would wish he was dead. And he being good looking just wasn’t a good thing, simple as that.

"What do you want?" he asked. His voice wasn’t angry, like most would be. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could he said, "Wait, before you answer, let's make snow angels."

He fell to the ground and began flapping his arms around. I rolled my eyes and stood there. I wasn’t going to roll around in the snow with some guy I didn’t know, even if he was good looking. I just wanted to know if there was something mentally wrong with him so I could know if I could slap him or not. I was tempted just to slap him now anyway.

"C'mon," he said, patting the snow next to him. That snow, at least, was white. Noticing I wasn’t going to move, he added, "Get your butt down here or I'm not going to answer whatever question you planned on asking me."

I rolled my eyes. He obviously had no trouble stringing words together. He probably wasn’t mentally handicapped, but they must've been something wrong with him.

Still, I obliged and sat down on the ground, relatively far away from him. I spread my arms and legs out and began to form a perfect snow angel. Thing was, our arms kept hitting each others, our hands landing on top of each other's time and time again. And when they did, part of me wanted to leave it there. The other part still just wanted to hit him.

"Okay," I said, standing up and looking at my snow angel. It was perfect. Mine always were. I could almost imagine the angel removing itself from the ground and flying away. I always wished they would. The guy stood up and his wasn’t as nice, that's for sure. I walked over to the angel's head, leaned down, and drew a small halo above the head. I smiled.

"Anyway, I have a question for you," I told him, standing up and dusting off all the snow that was clinging to by cold body.

"Shoot," he said, then added with a chuckle, "just not literally."

I rolled my eyes. "Well," I said, not sure how to form this question. How were you supposed to ask someone if they peed in the snow? "There's a patch of yellow snow over there," I ended up saying, pointing in the direction of where the snow laid. "Did you do that?" I asked.

"I had to pee," he said, shrugging his shoulders, as if it was honestly nothing.

"Honestly," I spat. "That's disgusting. Some little two year-old could come and eat your piss."

"Sorry," he said, rolling his eyes, "I didn’t think that anyone would really care."

"Ah. That's probably 'cause you don’t think."

I scoffed and started to walk off. Who cared if he was one the best looking guys I've ever seen? Who cares that if while we were lying in the snow I kind of just wanted to rip his clothes off? He seriously had some problems and I was not in the mood to deal with idiotic people like him.

"Hey, wait!" he called. But I didn’t wait. I kept on walking; walking even faster if that was possible. But he caught up to me and grabbed onto my forearm. Once more, I had to suppress the desire to rip all of his clothes off.

"What do you want?" I asked. My voice was angry, like most would be.

"I just don’t want some beautiful girl, like yourself, hating me. How can I make it up to you?"

"You can't," I told him and kept walking. I knew I was being a fool. I mean, all he did was pee on some snow. But still, that didn’t mean that I should just let him do whatever he wants.

"C'mon," he said, "let me buy you some coffee. You must be freezing."

He was right, I was cold. Coffee sounded amazing. And it was just pee. And he was insanely gorgeous. And I did deserve a guy for Christmas.

"Well," I said, "only if you buy me coffee every day for the next week."

He smiled. "You know, that would mean you'd have to see me every day for a week. Even Christmas next Thursday."

I smiled, lacing my fingers with his.

"Exactly."