A small weathered cabin like an old hunter’s shack. We stumbled toward it, my heart pounding. I shoved the door. It creaked open with resistance. Inside, musty wood smell, dust, but dry. A rusted stove, some wool blankets, scattered firewood, a box of matches. I dropped to my knees by the stove, hands shaking as I struck a match. It took three tries, but the fire caught flames licking the dry wood. Warmth spread slowly. Ellena leaned against the wall, catching her breath.
At least we won’t freeze out there. I rummaged for anything useful. A couple of canned soups, spoons. We heated one over the fire, sharing it in silence. The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows. Outside, the wind screamed. Then Elena looked at me. her expression unreadable in the dim light. If anything happens tonight, don’t let Ava know. Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I understood, not just about the storm, but what isolation and vulnerability might lead to.
I nodded, my throat tight. I won’t. I watched the flames grow steadier in the old stove, the warmth finally pushing back the chill that had seeped into my bones. The cabin wasn’t much, maybe 10 by 10 ft with rough wooden walls, a single rickety bench, and a couple of shelves holding dusty cans and forgotten tools. But it was shelter, and right now that felt like a miracle. Elena stood by the wall for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself, still shivering despite the fire.
Her red scarf was damp with snow, and her lips had a faint blue tint that made my stomach twist. You okay? I asked, my voice echoing a little in the small space. She nodded, but it was forced. I’ve been colder. She tried to smile, but it didn’t stick. I grabbed one of the wool blankets from the corner, scratchy and musty, but thick, and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it tight without a word, sinking onto the bench.
The fire crackled, casting orange flickers across her face. In that light, Elellena looked different, softer somehow. Her sharp features, the ones that always made her seem unapproachable back in Denver, were gentled by the glow. High cheekbones, deep blue eyes that held stories I could only guess at. I hated that I noticed this was Ava’s mom. I shouldn’t be seeing her like this, not in a way that made my pulse quicken, but the cold didn’t care about shoods.
It was relentless, creeping through the cracks in the walls. Elena’s shivers grew more pronounced, her teeth chattering faintly. “Damn it,” she muttered, rubbing her arms. “You’re freezing,” I said, stating the obvious. I moved closer, hesitating before sitting beside her on the bench. “We need to share body heat. It’s practical.” She looked at me, those eyes searching mine for a second. Then she nodded. “Yeah, practical.” I shifted nearer, our thighs touching through layers of fabric. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling the blanket over both of us.
Elena stiffened at first, her body rigid like she was fighting it. But then she exhaled, leaning into me just a fraction. Her head rested against my shoulder, and I felt the warmth of her breath on my neck. It was survival. Nothing more, I told myself. But my heart was pounding like it knew better. We sat like that for what felt like hours. The storm raging outside, the fire our only lifeline. The silence stretched, broken only by the winds howl and the occasional pop of wood.
Ellena’s shivering eased a bit, but not enough. Elellena, I said softly. Talk to me. It’ll help pass the time. She was quiet for a long moment, then in a voice barely above a whisper. I’ve spent too long just being mom. I forgot what it’s like to be me without the role. I swallowed, unsure how to respond. Ava talks about you like you’re superhum, the photographer who saw the world. She let out a small, bitter laugh. Superhum? I was running from one war zone to the next, chasing stories to avoid my own.
Ava’s dad left when she was little. I raised her alone, built walls to protect us, but walls keep everything out, even yourself. Her words hit close. I stared into the flames. I get that. My life’s all walls, too. Freelancing means no one gets too close. My last girlfriend said I was like a fortress, unreachable. Ellena shifted slightly, her hand brushing my arm under the blanket. Why? What are you protecting myself? I guess from messing up, from needing people.
I paused, the honesty feeling raw in this confined space. But with Ava, it’s different. She makes me want to try. Elena’s fingers tightened on the blanket. Ava’s good at that. She sees the light in everything, but me. I’ve seen too much dark. We fell silent again, but the air felt thicker now, charged with something unspoken. The cold pressed in harder as the fire dipped low. I added more wood, stirring the embers. When I sat back, Elena was watching me.
