And both were young

by Madeleine L'Engle

"Come on out in the kitchen," Madame said, "and we'll have a snack. And then it's time for you two to be in bed, holidays or no holidays."

After Flip was in bed Paul crossed the hall and knocked on her open door.

"Hello," Flip whispered.

"Are you sleepy, Flip?" Paul asked, "or shall we talk for a few minutes?"

"Come and talk."

Paul had his eiderdown wrapped around him and he climbed up onto the foot of the bed and sat at her feet.

"You look like an Indian chief," Flip said laughing.

Paul laughed, too, and then sighed, "I'm so glad you're here!"

"Me, too," Flip said.

She kneaded her feet against her hot water bottle and pulled her blankets up under her chin and the moonlight came in the window and the snowlight and the room seemed very bright and cold. She burrowed into the pillows and Paul wrapped his eiderdown tightly about him so that only his face and a lock of dark hair showed, and they giggled with pleasure at being there together, warm and comfortable and awake, with all the days and nights of the holidays stretching out before them.