"I don't want to intrude if you've got plans or something," he admitted after a moment looking almost shy as the school lights from the chapel's stain glass windows made the snow next to him look blue, green, and bloody red. He looked at it for a moment and squatted down, looking at the image it made- the sacred heat. With his palm on the snow he pressed down and made the outline of the heart suddenly grow into the picture, out of it. It looked at if someone had bleached the window and put it over the snow's many colors, or as if it really were the window lying right there.