A/N: This was inspired by the song stardew by Purity Ring, if you'd like to take a listen! :)

Chapter 1

When a chill enters the air and the leaves start to fall from the trees, when the birds fall quiet under the pale afternoon sun and exhales become visible in the cold night air, when holiday music starts to play, Red gets excited.

Winter Lizzie is his favorite.

When the weather turns, a crisp breeze replacing any thought of the hot summer months, she wastes no time delving into their closet for her winter gear. She's very serious about dressing for the weather, intolerant of coldness of any kind, and he adores the sight of her bundled up, donning her warmest clothes to protect herself from the freezing temperatures and tumultuous elements.

First to emerge is her thick, black peacoat, and Red can never refrain from wrapping his arms around her at every opportunity, constantly rubbing her back to feel its softness. If they're outside for a long period of time, he takes it upon himself to turn up her collar, protecting her vulnerable neck against the biting cold. When he deems she's simply been wearing it too long, he plucks idly at the buttons until she gently bats his hands away.

When her peacoat isn't enough, Red watches with amusement as she layers on thick wool socks, insistent about toasty feet and toes inside her work shoes. She often leaves them on even after she arrives home from work, happily padding around the house, soundless and content. On the coldest nights, she even leaves them on when she climbs into bed at night, the woolen softness of them rubbing sensuously against Red's bare feet.

But of all her winter wear, Red adores her beanies the most. She never leaves the house without one, a cute little cap pulled over the extraordinary softness of her hair that frames her pale face, making her blue eyes pop and sparkle in the winter bleakness. She has dark, muted colors to compliment her work attire and bright, fun colors to wear on her days off, and Red can never resist tugging the edge down over her eyes when she least expects it.

(The sight of her all bundled up against the cold with her garments hugging her tight makes him want to join right in, and he didn't think she could get any softer and warmer, but she proves him wrong, her added layers never failing to make him smile.)

When fall comes around to stay, winter not far behind, Lizzie loves to go apple picking. She rises early on sunny Saturday mornings, tugging him out of their warm bed and retrieving the worn wicker basket from the top shelf of their downstairs closet, ushering him into the car with sparkling eyes and a bright smile. They go to the same orchard every year and Lizzie adores walking slowly amongst the tall trees, stretching up on her toes, high up on the step ladder, to pick as many shiny red apples as she can until their basket is full, making Red's hands hover protectively over her waist, lest she topple to the ground in a flurry of apples and laughter.

Hayrides are another of Lizzie's favorite fall activities. When it comes time, they prepare thermoses of hot chocolate and head to the nearest farm, laughing together as they clamber up the rickety steps to a wooden cart hitched to a noisy tractor, picking a matching set of hay bales on which to sit. They sip their hot chocolate and Red makes a show of lamenting how the little pieces of straw stick to his expensive slacks, when in reality, he'd buy a hundred new pairs just to enjoy the way Lizzie takes hold of his arm and rests her head on his shoulder as they ride slowly over the bumpy dirt road.

On the long winter nights in December, Christmas and New Years fast approaching, Lizzie loves to walk around the neighborhood and look at the holiday lights. They pace slowly down the sidewalk in the darkness, holding gloved hands as she oohs and ahhs at all the different displays on the houses and lawns. Red looks at her more than the lights, admiring how she takes joy in the little beauties of the holidays and quietly adores the way her eyes sparkle with the twinkling lights.

(He loves seeing her indulge in her winter activities, knowing they bring her pleasant memories of her childhood with Sam and, after all the pain he's brought to her life, all he wants to give her is happiness.)

On their cozy nights in, the cold locked outside and frosting the windows of their warm house, they read together. They sit on opposite ends of the couch, their legs tangled together as they read their respective books, Red favoring historical, non-fiction, and classics, while Lizzie enjoys her guilty pleasure romance novels and the murder mysterys that she solves halfway through. On some nights where Lizzie is too tired to read, she prefers Red to read out loud to her, and he loves those nights, knowing how much she enjoys the soothing deep tones of his voice washing over her while she lays in his lap and he runs his fingers through her hair.

Another winter habit of Lizzie's is lighting candles, often several at once, the small flickering lights keeping them company in whatever room they're occupying with the scents of cinnamon or pine. Lizzie tells him that she likes the warmth of the tame flames, not scared of fire like she was as a little girl, instead finding comfort in the little orange lights. Sometimes she even brings one to bed, resting it safely on the dresser, careful to blow out all the rest long before they retire, and Red enjoys watching the shadows jump and flicker on the ceiling above them as they fall asleep.

In the safe haven of their bedroom on a cold winter's night, Lizzie loves to cuddle, snuggling as close as possible to him in the darkness, and Red adores it. She often prefers to fall asleep with her head pillowed on his chest as he presses kisses to her hair. And, after that, she loves spooning, Red's chest pressed snuggly up against her back, their arms tangled in front of her as they sleep. It's not uncommon for them to wake facing each other with their arms around one another, gravitating towards the other in even their sleep.

(And they're never physically closer to each other than on those cozy winter nights, and Red almost wishes for the world to freeze into solid ice outside the walls of their bedroom, so they never have to leave the warm cocoon of their bed, wrapped up in blankets and each other.)

Winter Lizzie is his favorite.


When the days stretch longer and the air grows dry and warm, when storms crackle in the afternoon sky and the buzz of insects permeate the night, when it's simply too hot to sleep, Red gets excited.

Summer Lizzie is his favorite.

When the sun starts to burn bright in the sky and the smells of summer fill the air, Lizzie puts away her coats and boots and beanies for a cooler, lighter wardrobe, eager to feel free and unencumbered by the heavy clothes of winter. She enjoys the heat and warm summer nights, as it reminds her pleasantly of her childhood in Nebraska, catching fireflies with Sam when she was young and prowling around her town with friends and boyfriends as a teenager.

The first to go when the temperature starts to rise are Lizzie's sensible work shoes. They're always messily kicked off in the front hallway the moment she walks through the door after work and replaced with a simple pair of flip-flops, and Red adores the sight of her bare feet enjoying the summer breeze. Lizzie rolls her eyes when he compliments them - so small and elegant - but he finds the sight of her bare feet unbelievably domestic and comforting. When they go out, Lizzie always trades her flip-flops for a pair of dressy sandals with thin straps and tiny buckles, her brightly painted toenails happily peeking out.

When it's especially warm out, Lizzie will wear tank tops made of the palest colors and the softest fabric, the thin, spaghetti straps baring her lightly freckled shoulders to his gaze. Red can't help snagging her around her slim waist as she walks by him in their house, unable to resist pressing soft kisses to her shoulders and running his hands down her smooth arms. If she happens to be reaching for something on a high shelf or in a tall cabinet, Red will wait an extra few seconds to help her, just in case her top rides a little upwards and reveals a tantalizing glimpse of midriff to his sneaky gaze, his fingers inevitably finding their way there, always drawn to her bare skin.

But Red favors the hottest, driest days of the summer when Lizzie will wear a sundress. She doesn't wear dresses nearly often enough, what with her overload of government-regulated black women's wear, but she looks gorgeous in a sundress, any shape, material, or color flattering her figure beautifully. Red is especially distracted when Lizzie's dresses are low cut on her chest or short on her thighs, his gaze always stolen by a subtle bit of cleavage or the endless expanse of her smooth, long legs, no barriers or obstacles, and absolutely nothing to be done when he snags the hem of her dress as she walks by, tugging her to fall lightly into his lap while he wastes no time in caressing her soft legs.

(His biggest weakness when it comes to summer Lizzie is simply skin, the thing he never thought he would see more of than strictly necessary and his absolute favorite place to spend his time, loving when as much as possible is barred to his possessive and appreciative gaze by the summer weather.)

On hot summer days, Lizzie loves going for a drive. She never has a destination in mind, just asks him if he wants to get out of the house and go somewhere, so they go. She has an incredible fondness for his red convertible, and Red enjoys the spark in her eyes and the grin on her lips when he suggests taking it out, watching her run her hand down the smooth paint job and pretending not to notice when she watches him handle the stick shift with hooded eyes. Lizzie likes it best when Red drives and she can roll down the windows, letting the breeze toss and ruffle her hair, while her hand rests warm on his thigh.

Sometimes, in the evenings, Lizzie will take them to the nearest movie theater, looping her arm through his as they consider their options, ultimately picking the one with the most ridiculous title before Red buys them their tickets and far too much popcorn. She doesn't let him rent out an entire theater - even though he consistently offers to do so - instead preferring them to sit in the back, enjoying the comfortable seats and air conditioning, happy to blend in with the crowd in the cover of darkness and enjoy a summer blockbuster. If they end up accidentally choosing a boring movie and the theater is empty enough, Red will let his hand wander over the arm rest between them to drift tantalizingly over her knee until Lizzie tugs him over by the back of his neck and they make out in the back of the theater like teenagers.

When it's so hot at night that Lizzie can't seem to stay in her own skin, she'll lean close and ask him if he wants to go to a nightclub. He never passes up an opportunity to see her shimy into a short, tight dress and heels, so he lets her remove his tie and vest and pop the first button or two on his dress shirt and drag him out of the house. She leads them through downton D.C. until the deep, bass-heavy music from one club or another grabs her attention and they head inside, Lizzie leading them right to the crowded dance floor without a second thought, pressing close and starting to dance. These nights are always a hot, wonderful blur, full of Lizzie writhing and grinding, his hands gripping her hips, and messy, wet kisses that always lead to more.

(Lizzie sometimes likes reliving her teenage and college days and Red is more than happy to go along for the ride, loving how young she makes him feel, and - occasionally - how they can't manage to make it back to their place before indulging each other.)

In the summer, Lizzie has a habit of wearing her hair up, her long, dark tresses too thick and warm to lay on her neck in the hot weather. Instead, she'll pull it up into a messy bun, back into an intricate french braid, or - Red's favorite - up in a high ponytail. He loves seeing her soft hair all gathered into one smooth tie, swinging delicately as she walks and curling beautifully at the end, and he can never resist running his fingers through it whenever he has the chance. Most of all, he adores the way it bares her beautiful neck to his gaze, and he makes sure to lavish her throat, neck, and shoulders with kisses and nips, the back of her neck wonderfully sensitive to his touch and her skin deliciously salty with summer sweat.

When dark clouds roll in and thunder starts to rumble in the distance, the air crackling with electricity, Lizzie loves to sit in front of an open window and watch a storm. Though she's told Red they used to scare her as a child, Lizzie now adores thunderstorms, mesmerized by the rain lashing at the window and the lighting spearing across the sky, thunder rolling endlessly in the air above. Red is equally transfixed by the sight of her at the window, her eyes either closed as she revels in the cool, rainy breeze, or wide open for the lightning to reflect beautifully in her blue orbs. Her favorite are nighttime thunderstorms, and she always wakes him in the middle of the night to enjoy one with her, sitting up in bed, holding her securely in the dark while they listen to the storm raging outside.

During calm, long summer nights, so late it's almost early, with the windows wide open and the insects chirping outside, Lizzie likes to stay up and talk. They lay parallel in bed, her in her boyshorts and tank top and him in his boxers and t-shirt, too hot to be touching as they lay facing each other on top of the sheets with the smallest possible space separating them, whispering. He'll ask her questions about her childhood, before they knew each other, listening contentedly to her stories about Sam, love nearly oozing out of him as she talks, her eyes drifting slightly as she thinks back to her past with a light smile curving her beautiful mouth. Sometimes, she'll ask him for a story instead, and he has no shortage of those, telling her about his criminal escapades before she knew him, and he smiles in triumph when she dissolves into breathy laughter at his ridiculous tales.

(Red loves these nights more than almost anything, laying close to her and connecting, free to adore her unabashedly and feel her love in return, watching her eyelids slowly droop shut and coerce his own to do the same, and - no matter how hot it is - she always ends up back in his arms to sleep.)

Summer Lizzie is his favorite.


(As it turns out, whether it's a frigid winter or a blistering summer, any Lizzie is his favorite Lizzie.)