The first thing Zenith did after entering the living room was to envelop Ren in a warm embrace.
The suddenness of it caught him off guard, and he stiffened for a moment before awkwardly returning the hug.
"Congratulations, my child," she said, her voice gentle just the way he remembered it.
Ren hesitated; his voice muffled against her shoulder.
"Thank you," he managed, feeling a flush of warmth creeping up his neck.
When Zenith released him, Ren quickly looked away, hoping to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks. Zenith chuckled, clearly amused by his bashfulness.
Mira, following her wife's actions, patted the boy on the shoulder while handing him a small blue box.
"This is what Zenith made. I hope you like it."
If Zenith was the warmth of the winter, then Mira was that very biting child who threatened to take all the warmth for herself.