Inhaling introduces mini icicles to the lungs – little chips of ice that dangle off of the bronchioles, shaking and dislodging with every exhale, only to be replaced again in the next second. The sky is grey; not the pleasant kind that hints of a sun that is just waiting for its time to shine, but a hard, battleax grey that threatens of a storm. Piercing gusts of wind sends the clouds tumbling over each other while it bites through the padding of her coat, and even through her boots and three layers of socks, Elena can feel the crush and blue-tinged cold from the snow beneath her feet.
She didn't want to come here.
Well, she did, just – before everything. Now all she really wants to do is be in her bed, back in Virginia; back under her blankets with the heat turned up so high her landlord will be tempted to kick her out, eating those dill pickled flavored chips he-who-must-not be named (dubbed so by Caroline) got her hooked on, and watching the Golden Girls box set she found on sale at Best Buy. The blood rushing under her skin turns her cheeks and the tip of her nose red – she can't see it at the moment, but she knows she looks like one of those drunks who have been perma-inebriated long enough to have a permanent flush.
"Caroline," she bites out, fingers clutching onto the handles of her suitcases already numb even through the leather and faux fur lining of her gloves. "Hurry up - it's freezing out here."
"I'm trying." From the back Caroline looks like a giant Hostess Sno Ball – big pink jacket, pink fuzzy gloves, and pink skull cap with a poof ball on top that bobs and shakes with every tug at the doorknob.
"You'd think they would have doors that work," Elena hears Bonnie mumble from her right side.
"It's just part of the resort land," Caroline grunts, twisting the key. "But they take care of it still. I'm sure the door is probably just-" twist "frozen" a push and a grunt "shut." The sound of snapping icicles puncture her cheery exclamation of "Yay! See, it worked." And indeed, the door to the large cabin swings in and all three ladies grab their bags and rush inside.
"Thank God," Bonnie shivers as Elena follows her inside and kicks her boot clad foot back so that the door shuts behind them. Bonnie rips off her own matching purple skull cap and leather gloves. Her dark hair sticks up in a static halo and it makes Elena huff out a small laugh to herself.
"It's beautiful," Caroline squeals, excited, and as Elena drops her bags and peers around she has to admit her friend is right. The sticky door had her thinking the inside would yield the worst – cobwebs, no heat, ratty furniture - but it's the exact opposite. Shining, dark walnut wood is everywhere, and the light fixture above is a mosaic of orange and gold that casts everything in a relaxing autumn like light. The chairs and sofa are brown and dark tan, all chintz and leather, the rugs look soft and clean. To the left, the kitchen sparkles, more of that clean walnut wood, mixed expertly with steel and black marble to create a warm, homey feel.
Straight ahead there are stairs (wooden and slotted) that lead to a second floor where Elena can see four bedrooms, side by side. A glance to the right yields a short hallway and three more doors – probably the second bathroom and two more bedrooms Caroline mentioned.
"Um, how were we able to afford this place again?" Bonnie wonders aloud as she drags her suitcase further into the living room before giving up and flopping down into one of the chairs. Her tiny body sinks into the soft fabric.
"Well, like I said, it's on the resort land, but not actually part of the resort. It's like, separate or something."
"Shouldn't that cost more?"
Caroline shrugs. "Probably."
"Probably?" Elena aims at her incredulously. "It's a private cabin, Caroline. A huge one."
"Yeah, but it's shared, remember. The cost is split the six ways. I mean, I assume it is – the guy on the phone said that it would be full for the whole two weeks." Caroline glances around, pink poof ball shivering atop her head. "Speaking of which – hurry up and pick your rooms, ladies. Before those other people start coming in."
"Why did we decide to get a shared cabin again?" Elena asks, trying not to cringe at the edge of a whine that manages to creep into her voice.
"Adventure! Meeting new people, yada yada," Caroline mumbles as she attempts to drag her five bags up the stairs all at one time. "It'll. Be. Fun," she grunts.
Bonnie gives Elena a brief glance, raises an eyebrow, and rolls her eyes before grabbing two of her own bags and following Caroline up the stairs. The idea rolls around her head to follow, but as Elena watches Bonnie wrestle one of the bags from Caroline's hands and slings it over her own shoulder before it can fall through the slots in the banister, Elena decides to just take one of the rooms on the ground floor.
She eyes the main room once again, noticing for the first time a very impressive fireplace and the plasma screen television that hangs directly above it on the wall and wonders briefly if the former will ever be used during their two week stay, before hauling her own bags into the nearest bedroom. It's just as impressive as the common area – same wood motif, large bed with a supremely comfortable looking thick, burgundy blanket, fluffy pillows. There's one large picture frame window with curtains the of the same color pulled to each side to show the grey sky and the snow covered pines, and across from the bed is another plasma screen, albeit smaller and on a stand atop the dresser, but nevertheless, still nice.
Unwinding her scarf, Elena eyes the bed. It really does looks ridiculously comfortable. And now that some of the heat is returning to her body, her limbs feel heavy. She pulls off her gloves and hat, stuffs the scarf and gloves into the knit, and shrugs off her jacket. She'll pick them all up soon, she decides as she tiredly toes off her shoes and crosses the room to flop down onto the bed. Oh yeah, this… this feels nice. Really nice. From the commotion she can hear distantly above her head, Caroline and Bonnie seem to still be struggling with their own belongings. They won't notice if she stays in here for a while. She'll just close her eyes for a minute, just until they come bursting in to see her bedroom and, like clockwork, to ask, once again, if she's really okay.
And just like clockwork, she'll lie, and say 'yeah, I'm fine. I'm happy it happened this way,' and they'll give her those looks. But that won't happen for at least another- she glances at the round, burnished clock on the wall - half an hour, so she allows her eyes to slide shut, body relaxing into the softness that is this mattress (that was, apparently, manufactured in heaven) and waits.
o o o
"This is kind of gay."
"No, it isn't." Alaric answers absently as he makes a left onto Rockbridge Road. At least he thinks it's Rockbridge Road – the little wooden sign they passed was still covered in snow, not yet dusted off by the resort groundkeepers or a powerful gust of frigid wind, but this is the only turn off he sees. Besides, the lady on the GPS assures him that this is where he's supposed to be.
"It's a little gay."
"Damon, how is this gay?"
"Two guys, going by themselves, on a two week vacation to a cabin atop the snowy peaks of Vermont? That doesn't hint at a little Bareback Mountain to you?"
"I'm pretty sure you mean Brokeback Mountain."
"Whatever." In the passenger seat, Damon eyes the dark sky.
"You've been going through my porn again, haven't you?" Alaric doesn't get an answer, and he spares his best friend a glance before turning his eyes back on the road. "Dude, it's a shared cabin. They'll be other people there."
"Knowing my luck, it'll be all guys," is grumbled into the small space of the rented Explorer, and Alaric rolls his eyes and makes a right.
"When did you become homophobic?"
"I'm not homophobic, idiot. I just rather this not be a sausage fest."
"Mhm." Another left, and a few hundred feet, and suddenly the cabin looms ahead, a burst of brown on the otherwise white scenery. Alaric read all about the place on the resort's website, but it's still pretty damn impressive. A lot larger than he thought it would be, despite already knowing the floor plans. He pulls up slowly to park carefully next to the other, most likely rented, Explorer. A turn of the key in the ignition and the engine rumbles off. "Well, whatever. We'll see soon enough – looks like whoever it is already here."
He ignores the almost mutinous look on Damon's face and slips on his gloves, bracing himself for the bitter wind he sees shaking the fresher snow from the tree branches. He leans over to fish one of the heavy brass keys the main desk gave to him out of the glove compartment. He leaves the hatch open so Damon can grab his own. "Hurry up and grab your shit – all of it. I don't plan on making two trips out here."
-/-/-/-
Damon drops his bags as he enters the cabin and hurries to shut the door behind him. It's fucking freezing out there – cold, dark, and dreary. Why Alaric thought this would be relaxing for him is a mystery, but Damon can admit that the inside of the place is pretty impressive. Large, spacious, and, most importantly, warm.
"Not bad," Alaric says as his eyes roam the large living room. There's a shuffle and a thump of what sounds like a dresser drawer closing, accompanied by very feminine voices that has Damon looking up. Two girls walk out of one room, chatting quietly.
"Not bad at all," Damon mutters, and he can almost feel Alaric roll his eyes next to him. Both young women are beautiful, even though they are the complete opposites of each other – one is tall and fair, blue eyes and long, light blonde, silky hair flowing to rest on her shoulders. The other is short and tiny, smooth caramel skin and light brown eyes, her dark hair falling down her back in soft curls.
Their conversation comes to a halt when they spot Damon and Alaric in the foyer. The blonde one beams as the tiny one offers a small smile.
"Hey, you guys!" The blonde leads the way down the stairs and soon they're all shaking hands. "I'm Caroline, and this is Bonnie. I guess we'll all be living together for two weeks." She must be a cheerleader or something, Damon thinks to himself. There is no way she isn't focusing all of that pep and energy into something. And then a brief image of this girl cheering in a short little skirt and top flits briefly through his mind and he can't help the subtle leer that pulls at the corner of his mouth.
"We've already picked our rooms," Bonnie tells them, gesturing up to the balcony before stuffing her hands into her back pockets. "And Elena probably already has too, but they're all pretty nice. So, no duds."
Damon looks to the side and sees a few closed doors, already deciding he'll take one of those. It's close to the bathroom, kitchen, and television. Perfect.
"Thanks, ladies," Alaric says politely.
"So it's only the two of you?" Caroline asks
"Yup. Just me and Ennis here." Damon claps Alaric hard on the shoulder with a smile that his best friend answers with a tight grimace.
"Ennis?" Bonnie intones, clearly confused.
"Nothing," Alaric says quickly, cutting off anything Damon was about to say. He smiles at both girls who are eyeing them curiously. To Damon, a murmured "You do know you just admitted to being the bottom right?" as he turns to grab his own bags.
"Shut up," Damon mumbles. Not his best comeback, admittedly. He watches the girls flop down onto the sofa and Alaric walk up the stairs, before he sighs heavily and picks up his own bags. The first door he opens turns out to be the bathroom (good sized, clean, brighter than the rest of the place). He crosses the hall and opens the second door.
The first thing he sees are two dark blue suitcases just inside of the threshold. He's about to back out, when his eyes land on the middle of the room.
Caroline and Bonnie are very pretty, but this girl asleep on the bed is… gorgeous. Her olive toned skin seems to glow in the low light of the lamp beside the bed. Chestnut colored hair spills all over the cream colored pillows, and incredibly long eyelashes brush softly against her cheekbones. Her features are delicate, almost perfect in their relaxed state, but it's when she shifts and her eyelids flutter open that Damon feels his heart do a ridiculous flip flop in his chest. She has eyes like a goddamn doe – big and almond shaped, a deep liquid brown that has him barely catching himself from falling into them instantly.
"Guess this room is taken," he manages to say, smirk firmly in place.
The girl (Elena his mind fills in) smiles sleepily at him as she sits up and runs both hands through her hair. Damon feels his heart give an extra, wracking beat that reverberates right down to his toes.
Maybe he doesn't give Alaric enough credit; this is turning out to be a great vacation.
o o o
The wind blows hard enough to knock a drift of snow clear off of a loaded branch and manages to land with a startling splat on the windshield of Matt Donovan's pick-up truck. He breaks suddenly and wonders, for what seems like the millionth time, why he thought it was cheaper to drive here himself rather than take an airplane and just renting a car. But then he remembers, again, that with the cost of staying in this place for two weeks without income paired with the mere cost of tickets this time of year and renting a car… it was just too much for him financially wise.
He shouldn't have even shelled out money for this vacation but… he couldn't be totally alone again this Christmas. And yeah, his eyes prick as he shifts the gears to park and climbs out of the cab into the freezing cold to brush the crushed snow off of his windshield, because it's truly pathetic that this is what it comes down to; spending the holidays with virtual strangers because the thought of his cold, empty house on the twenty-fifth (and really, beyond) makes his heart trip and fall into his stomach. But he swallowed his pride after seeing pictures of his ex with an exuberant smile, engagement ring, and fiancé behind her, big hands rested on her bulging, adorable baby bump on the internet. He'd stared at the image for exactly 46 seconds before logging off and searching for a cabin far away.
Windshield cleared mostly of debris, Matt climbs back into the cab and pulls the door shut a little more forcefully than needed. "Sorry," he murmurs absentmindedly – Becky-Sue didn't deserve that. And yes, his truck has a name, but he didn't name her, Vicki did. Right when he first bought it; came outside in one of his T-shirts and shorts, bare feet bearing the summer warmed concrete, and grinned at him as she slapped the hood good-naturedly-
The lump in his throat appears sudden and only slightly unexpected. He swallows hard and starts the engine again, rumbling though the wind and snow and up the hill that levels out to expose the impressive group cabin. Two fancy Explorers are parked side by side and he pulls into the space beside them. This trip might not have been the best idea, he thinks as he eyes the two matching SUV's. Knowing his luck, the place is probably bursting with couples on a semi-romantic holiday getaway. Well, it's too late now – the deposit and payment are both non-refundable.
Sighing, Matt grabs his bags from the passenger seat and unlocks the cab door.