Lorien Legacies High School

by Anonymous-read

Exactly what it sounds like. My take on what the Lorien Legacies characters would be like if they were regular humans going through high school. Disclaimer: I don't own Lorien Legacies

22. Chapter 22

Hey guys!

Yeah, two months this time, sorry guys. I was fiddling around with the endings to each POV for a while and after scrapping and rewriting many parts of the chapter multiple times, I've finally decided it's good. If it's any consolation, this is the longest chapter yet by far... and by far I mean like longer than the previous longest chapter by 5000 words. So... yeah, if you like long chapters, I hope you enjoy! And if you don't like long chapters I'm sorry but I still hope you enjoy!

Reviews:

loricnumbersix6- Hey, thanks for reviewing! I really like your idea so I'll probably have to incorporate that in a few of the coming chapters. Thanks again for the suggestion :)

Booklover123- Hey, Trey will not be in this chapter but he will definitely play a part in the next one. Thanks for reviewing, glad you're enjoying the story :)

Tigist- Hey! I would love for people who speak a different language to be able to enjoy this story. If you don't mind, could you please PM me about it so we can talk about it? Thanks :)

Thanks everyone who reviewed and/or read. As always, I love hearing from you guys and the support means so much. Anyway, you've waited long enough so onto the story, hope you enjoy!

---

Joseph

As I open the last cupboard in the small kitchen, I huff in disappointment. I walk around to the other side of the island and cross my arms, examining the results of my search. In final, the only thing I found was coffee, mugs, glasses, plates, bowls and silverware. It doesn't stop me from staring at the mass of open cupboard doors in hope something else will appear.

"We need hot chocolate." I conclude.

Maren lays on the couch in the living room. I saw her glance up from her phone a couple times since I started my search, but she hasn't said anything. She either knew I'd eventually tell her what I'm looking for anyway, or she couldn't care enough to ask. I have a feeling I know exactly which option is true.

"Right." She replies uninterestedly.

"No, I mean it." I insist, gesturing angrily at the open cupboards. "Like, who opens a ski lodge and doesn't put any hot chocolate in the rooms? It's ridiculous."

"Uh huh."

I look over my shoulder at her tired reply to find her on her phone. When I'm silent for long enough, she actually looks up, arching an eyebrow. "This is serious, Maren."

She hums in agreement, shifting her focus from me once again. "So I've heard."

"I want it." I continue.

"And I want a million dollars." She mutters. Her eyebrows furrow. "And popcorn. Popcorn would be good."

"Well there's none of that either." I say.

"And yet, I'm not complaining about it. Imagine that."

I give her a flat look and she returns it so effortlessly it's funny. I turn back to the cupboards before she can see I'm amused, because if she doesn't find me funny I'll be damned if I show her that she is.

"Well, I'm upset." I defend.

"We don't always get what we want, Joseph."

"Okay..." I reply, furrowing my eyebrows. "But I need hot chocolate."

I hear Maren sigh, but before she can say anything about it, Marina emerges from the hall. "Thank God, the babysitter is here." Maren complains.

Marina raises her eyebrows, leaning her shoulder on the wall and looking at the mass of open cupboard doors in bemusement. When her eyes land on me, I grin at her, and a small confused smile makes its way onto her face.

"Looking for something?" She concludes.

"They don't have any hot chocolate here!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up.

She feigns worry. "Oh no. What are we going to without hot chocolate?"

"I don't know. Die?" I guess. She laughs and walks over, starting the close the cupboard doors while I stand behind the island, watching as the result of my rummaging is reversed. "We need to get some." I decide.

"Okay." She says.

"Like, tonight." I clarify. "We need to get some tonight."

"Okay." She repeats.

I raise an eyebrow at her easy agreement as she leans on the other side of the island, mimicking the expression. A grin is on my face in a moment and I lean over the counter, kissing her briefly. She smiles as I pull back. "So, you ready to go?" I ask, as though she was the one waiting on me.

"Whenever you are." She replies.

I step back and gesture toward the hall. "After you, m'lady."

I wave to Maren as we head out and she glances up long enough to give me a lazy wave back. John comes down the steps as we get into the porch, looking at me picking up my coat and drawing a conclusion.

"You guys off?" He asks.

"Yup." I reply, putting arms through the sleeves.

He nods. "Well have fun."

"You too." I say as he starts to walk away. "But not too much fun."

He doesn't justify the comment by giving a response, but I see him shake his head on the way out to the living room. I smirk before noticing that Marina has started putting on her coat, so I rush to hold it up for her so she can get her other arm through easier. I grab her hat and gently tug it onto her head, grinning.

"The Queen has been crowned." I say grandly.

She rolls her eyes and hands me my hat. "Think you can handle crowning yourself?"

"Marina of the Sea," I snatch the hat from her in mock offence, "I am an independent man." I pull the hat over my ears and smile smugly at her.

"Are you going to zip up your coat?" She asks. I go to grab for the zipper, but my gloves prevent me from getting any type of grip on it.

"That's not fair, my gloves are already on." I whine. Marina laughs and gives in, zipping my jacket up all the way to my neck, dusting off a shoulder when she's done. "Thank you, your Highness." I beam and step around her to open the door. "Lady's first?"

"Are you sure you don't want to take Riley's van? She did offer you know." She says.

"It's not that far." I argue. She just shrugs, and steps outside, waiting for me on the little wooden space we have outside that's kind of like a balcony, only it has stairs going to the ground.

I feel as though I'm stepping into an ice box as soon as I step onto the creaky wood. My shoulders automatically hunch up and I reach behind me to close the door. When I turn I find that I'm already rubbing my hands together out of habit. No matter how many layers I wear, it seems it'll never be enough in the dead of winter.

Marina raises her eyebrows at my discomfort. "Are you sure you don't want to-"

"Independent man here, babe." I cut her off with an overly enthusiastic grin, hoping that I can fool my body into feeling comfortable if I just act like it.

Marina raises and eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. My smile is genuine this time. "Babe? That's new." She says. She puts her hands in her pockets and starts down the stairs while I try to think of a response.

"It's not new. Well, I guess it is but I feel like... you know, it's a natural progression." I make hand gestures that she can't see as I continue behind her. She laughs and turns around as we get the the bottom, her arms swinging a little as she stops. I automatically reach out a hand to take hers, swinging them together between us which I know makes her roll her eyes. "So, are you ready to start our adventure?" I ask.

"I don't know, have you changed your mind about taking the van?" She replies.

"I've made up my mind so you might as well just stop asking." I chide playfully.

She holds up one of her hands in surrender. "Okay, Okay."

I nod in affirmation and we continue. It only a takes a few steps for a light gust of wind to blow from behind me, the frigid air bitter when it hits the back of my neck. I tense up and stuff my free hand in my pocket, glancing at Marina to see if she shows any signs of discomfort. I almost huff in annoyance at her relaxed posture, completely content, even with a little smile on her face.

"You know, it is minus twenty right now." She muses. I bet she knows I'm not doing so well.

"Plus the wind chill..." I continue, slowing down slightly.

"Exactly." She nods in agreement. "Nobody would blame you if you didn't want to walk."

"Yeah but-"

She cuts my words off by stopping suddenly, pulling me to a halt too. She raises her eyebrows at me. "Joseph, you're freezing."

I watch her for a moment, conflicted. But then I feel the wind again and I shiver. "You wouldn't judge me?"

She squeezes my hand. "Go get the keys."

I study her for a moment, but grin almost right after. I quickly lean down to kiss her head and then fast-walk around her, back in the direction of the room. "This is why I love you!" I call back as I turn to go up the steps. I have my foot planted on the first stair before I realize what I said. I lean back over the railing with wide eyes. "I never meant that! Wait no- I mean I did mean it but not like... you know, the serious one. That doesn't count right? I mean, it was-"

"Keys, Joseph." Marina laughs as she interrupts my rambling.

"Yup, good idea."

Maren

"I thought you were going to rent a movie?" I ask John as he walks into the living room. He already has plaid pyjama bottoms on and what looks like an old shirt. And while I only wear jogging pants and a sweater, I'm not the one planning on going out in public.

"I want to see if there's any movies already on the TV first." He explains.

He drops down into the chair on the other side of the TV. The living room holds three pieces of furniture; the chair he's sitting in, and two identical couches positioned on either side of the room. I'm lying on the couch Riley slept on, my head on a pillow and my feet propped up on the armrest, legs crossed at the ankles. I'm glad she's the one who had to sleep on the couch, because there's not anyone else in the suite that would be able to comfortably fit.

"There's not going to be any free movies on the TV." I say.

"There might be." He counters.

"There won't be. You're wasting your time."

He's quiet long enough for me to look over. He's already looking at me, eyebrows raised defiantly. He makes a show of raising the remote and pressing the power button, stubbornly keeping his eyes on me the whole time. I feel the side of my mouth pull into a smile and I turn to the TV as it comes to life.

He spends a few minutes looking at every single option in the menu until he chooses a couple and searches through. I can tell he's eager to find something and prove me wrong, but none of the options have anything related to movies or recordings. He ends up going so far as to look in the settings before wordlessly giving up. The TV goes black as he shuts it off.

I smirk. "Told you."

"Whatever." He huffs, throwing the remote onto the other couch. It bounces off and lands on the floor, but he doesn't care. "I thought you were going to take a nap or something."

"I was." I shrug. "But you obviously needed someone to prove you wrong, so..."

"Right." He agrees. "Well since you're obviously such an expert, you're coming with me to pick out a movie." I turn my head in question and he nods. "And then, we're going to watch it."

I raise my eyebrows at the demand. "Yeah, I would but I'm already inside and the lodge is like, really far away-"

"No, you're coming." John decides. He gets up from his chair and starts down the hall, raising his voice to be heard. "I can't have you staying in here being bored, because that's just sad."

"I'm fine with it." I argue, settling back into my previous position and looking at the ceiling.

"Seriously? You've been lying in that same spot since we got back from supper."

"That's not true. I had a shower and then laid down." I counter.

"Perfect, you're all ready to go then."

Despite myself, I smile in amusement and I I'm glad he's not here to see it. "I still have my pyjamas on. And so do you."

"So? People go out in public with pyjamas on all the time." I hear his footsteps coming back down the hall, but they seem louder now.

"People go to Walmart with pyjamas on." I say anyway. "Which hardly qualifies as a public-" My sentence stops short when John comes around the corner with his arms full of winter clothes. My winter clothes. "What-"

"Here." He tosses my coat at me. Due to my position, I can't stop it from landing on my face. It's quickly followed by two more things which I find out are my gloves when I uncover myself. For a second I'm scared he might chuck my boots too, but he just lays them on the floor by the side of the couch. He walks back down the hall, I assume to get his own stuff.

I don't make a move to get up, instead, raising my voice so he can hear me during his retreat. "If I recall correctly, I did not agree to leaving this place tonight." I call. All I hear is scuffling as he gets his stuff on. "And I also recall that you agreed to let me sleep." I try again.

"And if you were sleeping, we wouldn't be having a problem right now." He calls back. "If you haven't noticed, you're awake."

I wait with a raised eyebrow for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything more. "Which means...?" I prompt.

"Which means, you can't be bored while you're on vacation." There's more rustling and he must know I'm not moving because he calls, "Now, don't make me come in there!"

Even knowing he wouldn't dare do anything that makes my progress remotely urgent, I sit up anyway. I put my feet in my boots, grabbing my gloves that fell to the floor as I stand up. I follow John's path down the hall, folding my coat over my arm instead of putting it on

John is zippering up his coat as I come down the hall, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "That actually worked?" He chuckles. He grabs something off the shelf and tosses it to me. "Don't forget a hat."

I catch it with one hand and immediately give it an underhand throw back, never breaking stride. "I'm not wearing a hat."

He catches it and gives me a look. "You'll catch a cold." He warns. I shrug as a walk past him and he relents, putting it back on the shelf. He watches me as I hang my jacket back on the hook. "At least put on your coat." He tries as I open the door. I don't say anything, just pushing my hands into the pocket of my hoodie as I step outside, humming a little. I hear him breath out a tired sigh as I start down the steps. "You're something else, Elizabeth." He mutters.

He comes outside a moment later, and I notice how he's zippering up a hoodie instead, apparently having discarded the heavy jacket. He gives me a pointed look and I have to laugh at how proud he is that he managed to match my rebellion. Although he kept his hat on.

It's a calm night. Cold, yes, but that's to be expected. Aside from that, light snow has started to fall, smattering the cars and the slushy parking lot in a thin coat of white. There's hardly any wind, so no sound can be heard aside from our footsteps, left visible in our wake. It seems weirdly fitting that since we are the only thing disturbing the silence, our mark would be left in both sound and sight. We don't exactly make fast work getting to the lodge. After all, we have nothing to rush for.

"It's cold." John says eventually.

"It's winter." I reply. "And nighttime."

He rolls his eyes. "Thanks, I haven't noticed."

I shrug. "Not surprising."

"Hey." He looks down at me and I fail to hide a smile at the warning tone in his voice. I get a soft push the the shoulder for that, making me step a foot away from him before coming right back.

"You better watch out. I might slip and then you'll have a lawsuit on your hands."

"More like the resort will have a lawsuit on their hands for not properly clearing the parking lot. There wouldn't be any consequences for me."

I raise my eyebrows as I consider it. "Okay, fair point." I admit, shrugging. "Unless I decide to press charges for assault, and then boom, six months in prison."

John looks at me cautiously. "First of all, you've thought about this too much. Second... did you actually just use the word boom to make a point?" That gets him a push to the shoulder, although it barely seems to affect him. Suddenly he stops and tilts his head to the side slightly, his eyebrows furrowing. "Do you hear music?" He asks.

I stop walking and listen. Sure enough, there's a faint steady beat coming from across the parking lot. "Must be in the lodge." I conclude, continuing on. "Maybe Stanley persuaded them to start the party early."

John laughs and quickly catches up to me. "He'll be partying by himself then. I'm too tired."

"Of course."

John looks down so fast I take a step away from him to avoid another push. He raises his eyebrows at me warningly, but I can tell he's anything but serious. "Come on, you're tired too. At least I'm not being all dramatic about it." He sends me a smirk and now I'm the one with the offended look.

"I'm not being dramatic about it." I argue.

"Right, Miss 'I'm going to go back to the room and die'."

"I was joking." I defend hastily.

"You laid on the couch for two whole hours."

"Well, I... uh..." I keep my mouth open, ready for words to come out, but my mind draws a momentary blank. It's only a short pause but it's long enough for John to point a triumphant finger at me.

"Ha! Hesitation. You are so tired."

"I'm not tired."

"You might even be more tired than me."

"Don't get ahead of yourself." I mutter, though I'd be lying if I said his excitement isn't at least a little amusing. I hear him chuckle and decide its best to let the conversation go now that there's no way for me to win. I squint ahead at the lights of the lodge and notice the music has gotten clearer since I last paid attention. "Jesus, how far away is it?" I complain.

"Calm down, we're almost there, Drama Queen." John teases.

I don't say a word, but begin the walk faster, hearing him laugh from behind me before he picks up his speed too. We really aren't that far away though, and it doesn't even take us another minute to reach the wooden bridge that leads to the door and goes around the whole lodge. Although I believe it turns into an ground level patio on one side. The music is clear now, but not very loud as it plays through some crappy speakers perched outside. I plan to walk through the main doors, but John starts walking up the bridge so I stop and sigh.

"Where are you going?"

"Mr. Byrne said that the service desk for the villa is through the doors on the side of the building." He explains, not commenting on my complaint.

"Can't we just get to it from inside the building?" I point out. He shrugs, looking around while slowly walking backwards.

"It's a nice night." He says simply, smiling a little.

I look at the doors for a moment before deciding that I wouldn't know where to go without him leading me anyway, so I start to follow him. His smile widens and he turns again so he can walk forward instead.

The music fades a little as we turn around the corner, but as we near the other set of doors, there's speakers again. I can see why. This area is directly below the ski hill, and the large wooden patio we're standing on has a path worn through its paint from heavy foot traffic. The ski racks a few metres away only have a couple sets of skis and a snowboard on them, and beyond them the mountain stands tall, almost seeming bigger than the sky. Little dots of light are peppered around parts of the hill, decorating the trails with a white glow. It looks nice. Beautiful actually. I'm suddenly glad John dragged me out here, because I know that seeing this is worth whatever movie I'll be forced to watch.

"This doesn't seem like the right place." John says, startling me out of my thoughts, though I don't look away from the hill. "Maybe he meant the other side of the building." He continues sheepishly.

"Probably." I reply distractedly. After all, an area where people are constantly flowing in and out for reasons other than checking in is probably not the best place for a hotel check-in counter. I nod and regretfully start to turn around. John is looking at the mountain too, so I smile. "Nice, isn't it?"

His eyes dart to me and he doesn't smile back, only nodding as his gaze returns to the sight in front of him. "Beautiful." He agrees.

My breath fogs in front of me as I sigh. "Well, we should probably go look for that service desk." I begin to walk back in the direction we came, noticing after a few steps that he's not following. I turn around and look at John questioningly as he stays put with a smile, and it's the kind of smile that makes the corner of my mouth pull up too. "What?" I ask.

He shrugs. "We should dance."

My eyebrows shoot up and I let out a surprised chuckle. "What?"

"We should dance." He repeats. His eyes dart to the speakers on the walls, reminding me that there's music playing. "If you want." He adds.

I consider it. I really do. And I don't know if it's the peacefulness of the night, or the soft sound filtering through the speakers that makes me want to. But I shake my head. "I don't dance."

"Sure you do." He replies.

"Seriously, do I look like the type of person that dances, John?"

"You can do everything else." He points out. "Why not this?"

There's that question again. Why not? It's a good question, and I'm not sure I have valid answer except this weird feeling in my stomach that tells me not to. But it's also the same feeling that makes me want to take up his offer.

He must know I'm considering because his smile stretches into that familiar, kind expression that makes his eyes just that little bit more blue. "Come on. It's my favourite song."

My lips press together and I look into his eyes, nearly shining with a shy hopefulness. I don't recognize the song he claims is his favourite, but it's slow and gentle and everything I usually don't like in a song. But it's his favourite.

My breath almost whistles through my teeth as I make up my mind, walking forward. Despite his smile, he still looks surprised and it takes him a minute to stretch his hand out in a quick motion.

"You're not wearing any gloves." I comment. It's a stupid thing to say, especially when there's so many other things I could pay attention to that don't involve his bare hands. But some part of me wants to keep this casual, even if another part of me knows it shouldn't be casual at all.

"Neither are you." He counters, and I suddenly wish I hadn't been so stubborn. But then his warm hand closes around mine, and my regret disappears. "And I don't need them." He guides me in front of him and I put my other hand on his shoulder. His comes to rest near the small of my back a moment later.

"So, what do we do now?" I ask stupidly. "Just.. sway or something?"

He chuckles, the vibration from the sound easy to feel on my palm. He starts rocking back and forth in answer, gently bringing me into his slow movement. "We'll save the hard moves for later."

I imagine he has that teasing smile on his face, but I can't tell because I'm looking down. I see both pairs of our feet moving, his a little more relaxed than mine. But then I realize looking down might be weird, so I force my eyes upward so they land on anything else. But my eyes focus on his chest for some reason, which I think is weirder than looking down. So I look up until a pair of dark blue eyes stops my searching. He gives me a small grin that's between shy and reassuring, and I'm not sure which one I should believe.

I raise my eyebrows, serious. "If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it and you will look like a liar." I threaten.

"Noted." He replies.

As I watch his eyes shift to look at something behind me, I realize we're really not that close together. He a respectful distance away, but not too far that it's uncomfortable and not too close that it's weird. There's at least seven inches between us, so why does my heart pound like the space is nonexistent?

We're going in a slow circle, so I get a view of the mountain once again over his shoulder. It's still beautiful, and I find myself focusing more on that. But then it's gone as we turn and I have nowhere else to look except the wooden siding of the lodge, which does nothing to distract my mind from what I'm doing.

Because I was right earlier. I don't like slow songs. I don't do anything I don't want to do, and I certainly don't dance. But that can't be right because here I am, holding someone else's hand, swaying back and forth in the freezing cold, all because he asked me to. And then I realize that I didn't really not want to do this at all, and it's not because of the music, or peacefulness, or even the hopefulness in his voice when he asked. I wanted to do it because it's his favourite song. I wanted to do it because he's the one who asked.

I look at him once again and find that we're closer than we were before. Maybe only by an inch or two, but I still notice. I vaguely wonder if it was him or me who shortened the space between us, but then I decide it doesn't matter.

The mountain comes into view over his shoulder again, but this time I look at him, his face illuminated by the warm light coming from the lodge windows. He's looking at me, but he doesn't smile this time, he just looks. I wonder if he's thinking what I'm thinking; that something feels different. And it's not just his eyes or the music or the dancing. Because we've been close before. We've walked side by side, we've squeezed together against the back wall of the gym and he's held my hand on a bench in an ice rink. This isn't even the closest we've ever been to each other. It shouldn't be anything new, except it is.

His eyes look into mine and are we even closer now? While the distance between us was so clear before, I now find it hard to tell.

A snowflake drifts between us and I watch it land on the front of his sweater and melt into the fabric. For some reason it makes my mind clear, because I had almost forgotten we weren't alone. I remember that we're outside, right in the viewing area for anyone inside who cared enough to look out.

I try not to smile as I imagine it, but I must fail because John's eyebrows tug in slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting in confused amusement. "What?" He asks, a soft laugh threaded through his question. It makes my smile wider and I look down, shaking my head.

"Nothing, it's just that we're out here dancing to this stupid song in twenty below zero, and we're wearing pyjamas." I chuckle, a little embarrassed I ruined whatever moment we were having.

"Well maybe if somebody didn't strike up a campaign against wearing a coat, this wouldn't be a problem." John says chidingly, but breaks into a grin when I laugh.

"I'm not saying it's a problem." I defend. I'm unable to keep the smile from my face as we continue stepping back and forth. "I'm just saying it looks weird."

"I happen to think we look great together." He argues, not seeming to think about his words even after he says them, because I know the sheepish smile he would wear if it sunk in. "Even in pyjamas." He adds.

I raise an eyebrow. "You're wearing plaid."

His head nearly touches mine when he looks down at his pants. "So?"

"You're bringing our style points down, like, twenty percent."

A laugh breaks through his offended ruse, and he raises his eyebrows. "What's wrong with plaid?" He demands, his voice serious now despite his grin.

"At least it's not as bad as the hat."

"There's nothing wrong with my hat. Now you're just being mean." He huffs.

I laugh and he shakes his head, both of us falling into comfortable silence. We stay like that for a minute, bits of ice on the deck crunching under our boots as we step in time with the song. Both of our breaths fog in the quiet air.

"This is kind of boring after a while." I state eventually. At first I'm a little worried I've offended him, but he just laughs.

"Leave it you to ruin a moment." He teases. I'm about to defend myself but he just smirks and keeps talking. "But we have to keep going. The song isn't even over."

"I'm sure the song won't be offended."

He looks aghast. "You can't just stop dancing halfway through a song, Maren. It's a rule." And we don't, our movement going on uninterrupted in the background of our argument.

"Well it's a rule I've never heard of."

"You've also never danced." He points out, smiling teasingly. "Well, not that you can remember." He takes his hand from my back and makes a drinking gesture. I glare at him and squeeze his shoulder hard, stopping when he grins and returns his hand.

"Are you ever going to let that go?" I sigh.

"Hey, you insulted my outfit." He defends. "I had to do something."

"I didn't know you took so much care in your outfits."

"One of us has to. I mean, you're wearing... like, what..." He looks down at my hoodie and the jogging pants pooled at the top of my boots, but apparently can't find anything wrong.

"You're not going to win this fight." I warn. I look him in the eye, deadly serious. "Plaid, John."

"Oh, shut it about the plaid." He complains, rolling his eyes. The laugh I was barely containing breaks out and he scoffs. "You know, it takes a certain type of person to rock plaid." He waggles his eyebrows and I raise mine in challenge.

"Are you implying that you're in that category?"

"Obviously. Do you not agree, Maren?"

"Do you really want the answer to that question?"

He narrows his eyes at me, his way of telling me he doesn't have a retort, and I try to keep my expression flat. This type of stare-down actually happens a lot between us, and it always ends with him breaking into a smile. Only tonight, for the first time ever, I'm the one to crack first. I press my lips together to try and hide it, but I feel the corner of my mouth pull up anyway. I watch his eyes widen as he notices and I look down as a victory grin breaks out on his face.

"Oh my God, did I just win?" He laughs. I make a low noise in the back of my throat, closing my eyes and trying just to pay attention to the swaying movement. "Wow, I defeated Maren Elizabeth at the serious game. Please tell me this is some type of record."

The tiny smile I had is gone when I look back up, my eyebrows raised in fond annoyance. He takes one look at my expression and laughs again, and it's hard because seeing his grin automatically makes me happy, which isn't what I want right now. I focus on our stepping again until noticing we're not even dancing in time with the music anymore, and we've just been keeping up the same slow sway to an entirely different song. Wait, a different song.

"The song is over." I state. While I would honestly be content doing this for another song length, I don't think my mind can handle another load of confused feelings for the night, so I let go of his hand and step away.

John wrinkles his nose at my retreat. "Sore loser." He accuses.

I roll my eyes and start backing up toward the direction we came from. "Let's go get your stupid movie." I turn as he jogs to catch up to me, smirking as though reminding me that I'm going to be watching this stupid movie too. I don't pay attention to his expression and just turn the corner of the wooden bridge, the music fading slightly. "Oh, by the way, what's that name of that song?" I ask.

John's eyebrows furrow. "What song?"

"Um, the one we just danced to?" I laugh a little. "You said it was your favourite."

Understanding dawns on his features, but he clears his throat. "Yeah, uh... I can't, like, remember the name of it right now." He scratches the back of his neck and shrugs, suddenly looking down.

I sigh as it sinks in. "That wasn't your favourite song, was it?"

"Never heard of it in my life." He admits. He smiles innocently and I roll my eyes, although a little embarrassed that he knew exactly what to say to get me to agree to do something I wanted no part of.

"You lied to me." I accuse jokingly. "I don't think I can ever trust you again."

He just smiles. "Worth it."

Joseph

The van rumbles to a stop in front of the ice rink, shutting down with a slight gurgling noise when I turn the key. I try not to be concerned about the unhealthy noises of the vehicle and instead look at the clock, where it shows that it took six minutes to drive here.

"Okay, so maybe that would have been a pretty long walk." I admit. Marina nods, probably imagining how hard it would be to walk around the snowbanks on the side of the road. I look outside as a few snowflakes land on the windshield of the van, and I'm suddenly very glad I'm sitting in the car. "I don't really want to get out. It's too warm in here."

Marina chuckles. "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be warm in the rink." She says sarcastically.

I think about my stupid date choice and nod. "Is it too late to change our plans and go to a nice restaurant or... somewhere heated?"

"We already ate." Marina replies.

"We could eat again." I suggest. "It's better than freezing to death."

A beat of silence passes as I stare out the windshield in regret. I look over at Marina to see if she agrees with me, but she just smiles when she catches my eye, defiantly pushing open her door. The cold air rushes in as she steps out and I hurriedly undo my seat belt.

"So that's how it's going to be? Fine." I hear her laugh before she closes her door, and I push mine open a moment later.

I rush to catch up to her and dodge the few cars already in the lot, running past her and waiting by the rink with the door open. I see her make a visible effort to get to the door faster, thanking me as she goes through. Even though it's still cold, I feel immediate relief once I step inside, the still air better than the breeze outside. Marina talks to the skate rental guy but I refuse to let her pay for it, and soon we're sitting in the change room, her tying up her skates and me staring at mine in confusion.

"You can do it." She encourages from where she's bent over her own skates. She knows I'm struggling without even having to look up. "Just like tying up sneakers."

I nod. We went on a few more lessons after the first one so I should really know how to do this by now anyway. I grab the laces and give it a try, quickly finding out how simple it actually is.

"Wow, it looks so much more complicated until you actually try it." I chuckle. "I can't believe I got you to tie them for me all this time."

She huffs out a laugh. "Me neither."

I bump her shoulder in mock offence. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not."

Now finished tying her own skates, she kneels on the floor to work on my other one since I'm taking twice as long. "See? It's in these moments that I'm assured that you actually like me."

"Well, why else would I keep you around?" She questions, playing along.

"My looks obviously." I joke. She finishes tying the skate with a tug and looks up, smiling gracefully when I waggle my eyebrows.

"Trust me, Joseph. If I just kept you around for your ability to tie up skates, you would be long gone."

My eyebrows furrow. "Was that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?" I ask but she quickly leans forward and pecks my lips before I can think about it anymore, patting my knee before she stands up.

I grin and follow her out of the change room as quickly as I can manage with the skates on my feet. I link my hand with hers as we walk to the door of the rink, refraining from swinging them back and forth due to my focus on my balance.

"You know, I'm really glad I know how to skate now, because now we can be that cute couple that holds hands as they go around the skating rink." I say with a proud smile.

Marina looks up with a really cute expression that I can't place. My best guess would be that it's between amusement and confusion. She shakes her head, the expression falling with a chuckle. "Your goals in life never cease to impress me."

I narrow my eyes at her but she's not looking, instead pulling up the lever on the rink door. "What's that supposed to mean?"

My question gets her attention and she finally looks up seeing my expression. But then she just smiles and shakes her head. "Nothing." She pecks my lips again and steps onto the ice, leaving me with a stupid grin.

"Wait!" I call, realizing what she did. "You can't just keep doing that when I ask a question you don't what to answer."

I watch her turn in a smooth circle before giving me an casual shrug with a teasing expression. And then in that simple movement, my mind just has to stop and appreciate everything for a second. Her in her sweater and jeans, looking at me under a wool hat with that little smile that tells me that it's not just me doing the teasing anymore. And I can't even be mad that she's using my own tricks against me, because she just looks so damn good doing it.

"Are you going to come out?" She asks after I've been looking for a little too long.

"Of course." I nod determinedly and stare down at the slippery surface. Despite actually being decent at skating now, the process of getting on the ice is always a gamble. "I can't leave you out there alone. You might fall without my help."

She hums in sarcastic agreement before coming to the edge of the ice and holding out her hands for me to take. I'm immediately grateful and step onto the ice with little complications thanks to her help. It's pretty easy going once we actually get moving, although I still can't skate anywhere close to her level. My jerky pushes look terribly awkward compared to her fluid glides, but she goes slow and holding her hand does wonders for my balance.

"You should do a trick." I suggest after a while. She sighs, obviously knowing the question was coming but not excited about it.

"Do you need to ask that every time?"

"Yes I do. Because I need to see my awesome girlfriend be awesome." I explain, grinning when she smiles despite herself.

"You know, just because I was in figure skating doesn't mean I was good." She points out with a wry smile.

"You're right." I agree. She looks surprised for a moment that I gave in that easily, but... I didn't. "The best scoring figure skater in the province can't merely be described as good. How about spectacular, astounding, remarkable-"

I stop listing off words as she stops in shock, letting go of my hand and causing me to turn around. She's completely shocked, eyebrows raised and confusion written all over her face. I copy the expression as best I can and she wipes it from her face in an instant, making me grin.

"How did you know?" She asks finally.

"Well, Marina of the Sea, the internet is a marvellous place."

"So you searched me up on the internet." It's not a question so much as a statement. "That's a little creepy." She teases.

"Don't try to distract me, it won't work this time." I chide, my smile going from cocky to soft quickly when she stuffs her hands in her pockets, her face turning a little red as she avoids my eyes. "And it's not creepy. All I had to do was search up your name and everything came up."

"Didn't know I was that popular." She chuckles, but it's without humour. She has know exactly what happens when you put her name in Google.

"One of the top runners for national finals tends to get someone noticed." I say seriously. She sighs softly through her nose and looks down. "You had the second best provincial score out of everyone in the country." I remind her, not mentioning the part of the article I read that stated the first place provincial champion gave away her position in nationals because of a family issue. "You're amazing, Mar. why didn't you tell me?"

She finally looks up at me, her lips pressed together. She holds up her hands in a fleeting gesture of uncertainty before crossing them in front of her. "I don't know, Joseph. It's not really something you talk about."

"Well, you should." I argue. "I mean, I already knew you were awesome, but I didn't know you were a number one result on Google awesome." I complain jokingly. The corner of her mouth pulls up but I pretend to be serious. "No, this is a problem, Marina. I was going around with you for five months thinking you were only a little out of my league, but now I know I'm not even in the same division. This is embarrassing." She finally chuckles and I grin. "And did I mention you're awesome?"

"A couple times, yes." She shakes her head but thankfully she's not embarrassed anymore.

"Look, I know why you didn't continue with it, you don't need to explain it to me." I say. I'm actually not completely certain on it, but I have a feeling the 'family issues' the article referred to had something to do with her Dad. "And I'm not trying to make you regret stopping. I just think it's a shame to have that much talent and not even realize it's still there."

She seems to contemplate that for a moment before looking up with a soft smile. "Since when did you become Mr. Inspirational?"

"Oh, I was born this way, baby." I smirk and she rolls her eyes, laughing anyway. "It's just easier when there's something worthy of inspiration."

"Well, consider me inspired then." She says. "I'm still not going to go put on a show or something."

"Why not?"

"Because there's like, people here."

"There was like a thousand people watching you in competition." I point out. "And several cameras."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Cameras?"

She seems genuinely shocked and it probably doesn't help that I chuckle. "I guess you haven't searched yourself up on YouTube."

"No, I haven't." She sighs. I continue to grin at her but she just presses her lips together.

"What?" I ask.

"You're creepy."

"You're mean." I counter childishly. She laughs and I'm glad she's joking about the creepy part. "Maybe if you weren't so vague about your accomplishments I wouldn't have to search you up on various... internet uh..."

"Platforms?"

"Yeah!" I snap my fingers as she gets it and she shakes her head, taking my hand and skating ahead again, probably to end the conversation. I really do consider leaving the topic alone, but every time I feel her hand shift in mine I'm reminded of the slow pace I'm restricting her to when she's capable of so much more.

"Teach me."

I'm not sure where the words come from, but they're out of my mouth now and they can't go back. The only thing I can think to do while Marina stares at me in confusion is to act like I know exactly what I said and why I said it.

"Teach you... what?" She chuckles.

"How to figure skate."

Her eyebrows shoot up and she actually stops moving, pulling me to a stop too. Our joined hands stay between us and stares at me like I'm mad. It's a valid reaction considering I'm also wondering where the idea came from.

She clears her throat, seeming lost. "Well... Joseph, it's more complicated than-"

"Just one trick then." I interrupt, because whatever, if I'm digging a hole for myself I might as well look like I'm doing it confidently. "Or like, a move or something." I add quickly.

"You're joking."

I chuckle lowly, still trying to come to terms with my own idea. "Unfortunately, I'm one hundred percent serious."

Her eyebrows furrow. I guess she's opting for confusion now after giving up on surprise. "Why?"

"Well... I mean- uh..." I wave my free hand as though the answers will pop out of the air. "I guess I just think it's cool, and... yeah." I nod because it's true, I just wish that would be the end of it.

"Joseph, you barely know how to skate, let alone-"

"I though you said I was getting better?"

"Yes, you are much better than when you started, but..." she looks up at me and I grin reassuringly even though I'm not sure why. If anyone could use some assurance right now it would be me, not her. She sighs, but after a moment she looks down at my feet and then back up, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, you're going to need a different pair of skates."

John

Getting Maren to pick a movie is like pulling teeth. She's difficult and stubborn and picky and defiant against anything I suggest. It probably doesn't help that almost all of the movies available are either family friendly (I have a feeling she's more of a Jason Bourne kind of girl), or animated, which is obviously not an option for her. Whenever I suggest anything that remotely strays from her taste, her face screws up and she just shakes her head, sometimes giving a reason, most times remaining silent. I let out a sigh every time I see her make the face but inside I'm not annoyed at all, because I'll be damned if it isn't endearing.

"Okay, this one?" I hold up a movie that I don't think is too bad, watching with a little bit of hope when Maren doesn't immediately shoot it down.

"'We Bought a Zoo'? That's one of Marina's favourite movies." She says. At my hopeful look, she shakes her head. "No."

"Oh come on." I complain dramatically, making her smile a little at my annoyance. "I know it's not action but it's a good movie, trust me."

"First of all, it's an alright movie at best. Second, I've seen it before."

I roll my eyes as I put it back, starting my desperate search through the shelves again. "So? You've never watched a movie more than once?" I huff.

"Nope."

My head snaps toward her at her reply, waiting for her to smirk and tell me it was 'something called sarcasm'. But she just keeps looking at the movies, and I realize she was serious.

"Really?"

Her eyes dart to me almost cautiously. "Um, yeah?"

I still continue to look at her disbelievingly until she sighs and raises her eyebrows, telling me to voice whatever I was holding in. I shake my head. "You're so weird."

Unsurprisingly, an eye roll from her meets my statement. "Why would I watch something again when I already know how it ends?" She counters, focusing back on the shelves.

"Because maybe it's a good movie and you want to enjoy it again?" I suggest. I still look at her even though she's not paying attention to me. She picks through the movie cases uninterestedly, like even she's given up on finding one.

"Well most movies are terrible anyway." She sighs distractedly as she pulls a case from the shelf, looking on the back to read it. "Too predictable."

"You obviously haven't been watching the right movies." I reply. I watch as she puts the movie back almost as soon as she picked it up, and decide to resume my own search, kneeling down to see the contents of the bottom shelf. "I bet I can find a movie you'll like."

"Go for it." She encourages flatly.

"Fine, I will." I reply smugly, somehow feeling the effort in my search go up tenfold now that I've been presented with a challenge.

I pick through the cases one by one, only looking at the movies I've already seen so I can deem if they're worthy enough. I skip past any sappy romances or stupid comedies, knowing she's probably not one for that kind of thing. The sad part is that aside from rom-coms and animated films, the selection is pretty limited. I end up picking three finalists and presenting them to her. She arches an eyebrow as I read them out.

"Okay, so I've got Pirates of the Caribbean, Click, and Marley and Me." I hand them to her and she chuckles.

"Marley and Me? Really?"

"Yes, really. It's a great movie." I argue.

"It's stupid. There's a dog on the cover."

"But it's a really cute dog." I insist. "Plus, you can't judge it by its cover. It's like, a rule."

"I'm not judging it by its cover, I literally know-"

"Not another word out of you." I hold up a hand, stopping her complaints. She stops with her mouth half open, looking slightly annoyed because I would assume she doesn't get interrupted often. "I'm gonna go see about something at the counter. When I come back, you have to choose one of those. And by the way, I would strongly suggest Marley and Me. I really think you'll like it."

Maren rolls her eyes as I turn to walk away, but I can tell she's actually putting effort into choosing one. I head over to the desk and the woman greets me with a smile.

"Hey, How much are those movies?" I ask, pointing a thumb back at the shelves.

"They're free as long as you return them by the end of your stay." She says brightly.

"Really? Cool." I nod in surprise and she just smiles a classic customer service smile, displaying she's been asked about this far too much. "Oh and one more question. Do you know if there's anywhere around here where I can find some popcorn?"

The woman tells me where to go and I thank her, heading back over to Maren, who looks like she's decided.

"Do we have a winner?" I ask. She sighs and almost regretfully holds up a movie case, her choice making my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Wow. I really didn't expect Marley and Me to actually be a contender." I take the other two back from her and put them back in there places.

Maren shrugs. "Well, you obviously wanted to watch it so..."

"Since when do you do things on my account?" I tease.

"Since now I guess." She looks down, examining the back of the DVD case. I smile at her admission and bring her in the direction the employee told me to go. "Where are you taking me now?" She complains dramatically, but I just look back at her and her fake sour attitude with a grin.

"Apparently the cafeteria still sells stuff at night." I explain. "Nothing cooked, but like, candy and drinks and stuff."

"Why are we getting candy and drinks and stuff?"

"We're not." I reply. She looks confused. "Well, you can get a drink if you want, but they also sell popcorn."

Maren draws a conclusion right away, raising her eyebrows in that decisive way she does when she knows something. "You heard me talking to Joseph."

"Not everything is about you, Maren. I, for one, am going to the cafeteria for one reason and one reason only..." I pause dramatically and force my voice to be sincere. "I just really like popcorn."

Maren rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Despite turning her head to try and hide it, I can still see a badly stifled smile fighting its way into her face.

"Whatever, John."

Joseph

I look down at the decently worn white skates on my feet with a slanted mouth. I'm not sure how I feel about them yet. They're a bit narrower than the hockey skates and the laces looked a hell of a lot more complicated to tie up (thank God for Marina) even though they probably weren't. Not to mention the sinister looking spikes that protrude from the front curve of the blade and have nearly made me face plant about twenty three times since I put them on. Marina calls the devils 'toe picks'.

Despite all this, there's still an elegant and almost sleek look to the skate that it's hockey counterpart failed to possess. I look up from the devices on my feet and meet eyes with the girl across my from me, suddenly knowing exactly what opinion I have about the new skates.

"I feel emasculated."

Marin snorts at my grumpy statement, tilting her head and looking me up and down. "But you look great."

"I know it might be hard for you but let's try to keep it professional, hm?"

She laughs. "Sorry. Of course, we'll keep this strictly professional." She nods seriously and I sigh as I shift my weight from one foot to the other, probably looking as awkward as I feel.

"Well, Miss professional... teach me something." I command with a vague hand gesture in her direction.

"With that tone? I might have to rethink it." She looks at me with raised eyebrows that are supposed to be chiding, but it turns into a grin when I make a threatening move toward her. She backs up effortlessly and I'm suddenly so in awe by the gracefulness of the move that I forget what I was pretending to be annoyed about.

"That." I state, nodding at her skates as she comes to a stop. Her eyebrows furrow and she tilts her head to the side slightly in question. It's a look I like to silently refer to as the 'confused puppy' expression. Not that I'd ever tell her that, because then she'd probably stop doing it. "Teach me how to do that." I clarify.

"What? Skate backwards?"

I nod and she appears to think about it for a moment. After a second of deliberation she must decide it's as good a place to start as any, and starts to tell me how. Honestly, she really isn't that great at explaining what she's doing, but I get that it's probably hard for her to describe something that just comes second nature. For her, trying to teach me to skate is probably as confusing as I would find teaching someone to breath, or how to move their arm or something. I learn most of it from looking at her as an example, and soon find out it's not just skating in reverse, it's an entirely new way of getting momentum and everything.

"Can you do an axel?" I ask her as I twist my feet back and forth like she seems to be doing, somehow it doesn't work for me.

She seems amused that I've obviously put some research in on the topic, but answers seriously anyway. "I used to be able to." She replies. It looks like she might say more but when she sees my terrible method, she chuckles and tells me what I'm doing wrong instead.

"Can you do a double axel?" I ask as I try to apply what she told me, and find it actually is working out better.

"I used to be able to." She repeats, even though I knew the answers to both questions because I watched the videos and saw her do precisely the mentioned tricks. "I don't think I would be able to now though because I was a lot stronger then." She points at my feet and tells me what to fix again.

"Can you do a triple axel?"

She chuckles and shakes her head, and something tells me I don't exactly know how hard a triple axel is. "I was working on it. But no, I've never done one." She admits. "Now come on, I want to see progress here." She gestures at my feet when she says the command jokingly, and I immediately focus again.

This time when I try what she told me, I actually move back a few feet, startling me into stopping myself. After a few more tries, I'm able to move backwards continuously (as awkward and slow as it may be).

"There you did it!" She beams at me and I'm sure she's more relieved over the fact that she can move on with something else. Seriously, it's a little alarming how much effort it takes me to complete one thing. A glance to the clock tells me there's fifteen minutes left until the rink closes, so if I'm lucky I'll be able to learn one more thing.

I turn to Marina. "I want to do an axel."

She lets out a short laugh, raising her eyebrows in a way that tells me she wants a serious suggestion. When I smile innocently, her amusement falls and surprise replaces it. "You're being serious."

"Yup."

"You do know what an axel is, right?" I give her a flat look and she puts her hands up. "Sorry, it's just... that's pretty impossible, Joseph."

"Well, it is if I don't have an example." I gesture out at the large open space of the rink, where the few people here circle close to the edge, leaving more than enough space for a certain trick to be preformed.

She sees what I'm getting at and gives me a look that says so. "Yeah, that's where I draw the line. I'm not doing any tricks until you have the proper skills to put in the effort."

She crosses her arms as though for emphasis, raising her eyebrows to communicate that she won't be swayed. And while I should probably be focused on finding reasons to change her mind, the only thought that runs through my brain is the question of how someone can command such an authority while wearing a white wool hat and mittens. I don't stay on the question for long though, because I feel something other than seriousness when I look at her. I'm not sure what is is, but something about the hardness of her gaze and the way she's so stuck in her opinion... Bossy Marina is -

"Got it?" She interrupts my thoughts, which is probably for the better.

"Totally." I nod a few too many times. "But maybe just a spin?" She sighs dramatically, which makes me grin because she doesn't immediately brush it off. "I mean, I've already seen you do it once so..."

She looks at me for a moment, the gears in her mind turning. "Fine." She says finally. In a pure moment of victory I lean down and kiss her. I think it might catch her a little by surprise because she makes a short sound that stops almost as on as it started, but she doesn't hesitate to respond. When I pull back, grinning, she smiles too. "But only if you do it first."

My mouth hangs open and she smirks as much as she's capable of, which just means a small tug at the corner of her lips. The expression is still enough to drive me crazy, and I can't stop a low noise in my throat. She retreats with a giggle at the threatening sound.

Needless to say, I stand no chance in catching her.

. . .

It's snowing harder than it was before when we get back. The slush in the parking lot is covered in a new blanket of white, and the snow piled on the wooden rails of the stairs have gained another few layers. Not that I mind. Seeing the snow drift down on a dark night almost makes this whole 'winter' thing worth the while.

We pull into a parking spot in front of the villa; the same one we pulled out of when we left actually. I make sure I get out before Marina this time so I can open the door for her, which she insists I don't need to do. She reminds me to lock the van on the way up the stairs, and soon we're at the door of our room.

"So, I've walked you home." I begin, nodding at the room number in confirmation while putting my hands in pockets. Marina looks at me questioningly. "I believe this is the part of the date where you tell me you had a good time tonight and then we kiss on the doorstep."

"Oh." She raises her eyebrows in consideration. She's trying to be serious but I don't miss the slightest tug at the corner of her mouth. "I didn't know there was a protocol."

"Of course there is, your Majesty. It's like, dating 101." I explain, trying to be just as serious but probably failing.

"Oh, okay." She nods in mock solemness, before focusing back on me, seeming to debate something.

Then she takes a step toward me, so close that she actually has to tilt her head to look up at me. I should probably be concerned about how my heart may have skipped a beat or two, but I can't because she right there and she's her and she doesn't usually initiate these kinds of moves.

She smiles and slides her hands in her pockets. "Well, Joseph. I had a good time tonight."

She statement makes my breath catch and I kind of just stare stupidly at her for a second. I try to chuckle but my breath comes out too quick. "Holy- wow, that was smooth."

She laughs, eyes staying on mine. "Just following protocol." Her shoulders lift in an innocent little shrug, and I'm done.

Fully convinced any words I try to say will just come out in an incoherent mess, I just let myself close the gap, savouring the way she meets me in the middle, like she's just as eager as I am. My hand comes out of my pocket to rest on her sweater beneath her unzipped coat. Without knowing it I pull her closer, but she doesn't seem to care, both of us melting into each other despite the cold air.

Thank God for protocol.

John

Okay, maybe Marley and Me wasn't the best choice. Not because it sucks or anything, it's because it's too freaking good. I kind of remembered how sad this movie was but I never quite truly relived it like I'm doing now. I try to swallow a lump in my throat as Owen Wilson's character talks to Marley for the last time, and I fight the burning feeling in my eyes.

Fine, there's a possibility that I wanted this movie for the reason that it may just contain the most heartbreaking moment in cinematic history. There's a possibility that I was foolish enough to think that the movie might stir up some emotion in the stoic girl on the other side of the couch. And there's also a (very high) possibility that my entire plan backfired and I'm actually the one struggling to keep tears at bay instead of her.

In fact, as what must be the saddest moment in the history of film plays out on screen, Maren looks almost concerningly calm as she gazes at the screen. Her face betrays no emotion and her eyes don't leave the screen. I really shouldn't be surprised though. This is Maren badass Elizabeth we're talking about here. Of course she wouldn't cry over some dumb rom-com, even if the dog does die. John very-not-badass Smith might want to cry though. Just a little.

The only reason I make it through the scene with my face dry is the fact I've seen it before. Okay, I'm not usually the type of person that cries about a movie, but there's something about a dog dying that just makes everything in the world unfair. I can't help it.

"Well that sucks." Maren states flatly as the scene ends. She's curled up on the other side of the couch that we pulled directly in front of the TV. I just hum in agreement, not trusting my voice even after the sad moment ends. I shake my head as I wonder how someone can be so unemotional after something like that. It's not that I wanted her to cry... I was just curious.

I continue to fester with this idea until the movie fades into credits after a relatively happy ending. After a beat of silence, I finally let out my frustration.

"Do you have a heart?"

Maren raises her eyebrows and shrugs as though she's actually considering the question. "Maybe."

She looks at me in what I can only describe as defiance and it takes a moment of grinding my teeth to make an angry gesture at the screen. "That was literally the saddest thing ever."

"Okay... and?"

"You don't have emotions." I huff.

She chuckles but decides better not to comment on it, taking her feet off the couch and grabbing her popcorn bowl off the floor, where she put it after she was done. She puts out her hand and gestures for me to pass mine to her so I do and she brings then to the sink.

"You know, the movie was probably more sad for you because you actually have a dog." She points out, laying the dishes in the sink and turning the water on. She smirks just a little. "Or at least that's what we'll tell everyone."

I pick up one of the pillows on the couch and fling it over the back at her. She watches with an unimpressed gaze as it lands several feet to the right of her. She looks at me and I fix her with a half-hearted glare.

"I didn't even cry."

"You were about to."

"How would you know?"

"I could hear it in your voice."

"But I didn't say anything!"

"Yeah you did." At my confused expression, she presses her lips together and mocks my hum of agreement from earlier.

"That proves literally nothing." I argue. She does the hum again and I sigh. "Besides, I don't cry at sad movies. All the time."

"I bet you cried when you watched Titanic."

"Titanic? Really Maren? Who do you think I am?"

"What about Hachi?" She guesses.

My mouth shuts and she raises an eyebrow knowingly. "It was a sad movie!" I defend. She nods and hums again. "Stop that." I warn.

Her face breaks into a grin, and even though it's a little smug, it's still the kind of grin that makes me smile back unknowingly. Because Maren doesn't let everyone see her smile like that, except I've seen her do it more times than I can count. I don't know what that means but I think it's a good thing.

"What are going to do? Throw another pillow at the floor?" She challenges.

"Do not belittle me because of my aim. You caught me in a bad moment."

She rolls her eyes and switches off the tap, apparently leaving the dishes for another time or (much more likely) for Marina. She picks the pillow up off the floor and chucks in back at me, perfectly at head level. I quickly duck and it goes flying to the front of the living room.

"Okay, I would usually complain about that but there are more important matters to discuss..." she arches an eyebrow as she picks up the pillow, but she doesn't throw it at me this time, just sitting down with it. "How did you like the movie?"

Maren shrugs, putting her legs back up on the couch. "It wasn't terrible." She decides.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was alright."

"Just alright?"

"Yes, just alright."

My eyes narrow at the praise, trying to decide if I should push my luck with getting a better opinion out of her. "Was it alright enough for you to watch it twice?" I ask anyway.

"Probably not."

I sigh in disappointment because I thought it was a solid choice. Although there's already movies running through my head that I'm sure will win her favour if we ever do this again. "I still think you're weird." I state.

The random comment makes her chuckle, and her eyes have humour in them even though they're also showing how tired she is. I watch as she props an arm on the back cushion of the couch, resting the side of her head against her fist and looking at me with an almost lazy smile, like she's loosing the energy to even try to reign in her expressions anymore. "Is that all?" She drawls.

I roll my eyes, even though I'm kind of in awe of how relaxed she looks right now with her bed clothes and loose hair, strands of which drift down in front of slowly blinking eyes. She seems so comfortable that I doubt she even cares about how her posture isn't as perfect as normal, or about how her smile doesn't hold its usual confidence or smugness. It's just... there. The ends of her sweater sleeves are gripped in a loose hold, hiding her hands, and her hair is piled slightly higher on the side of her head she's resting on her fist. She seems completely uncoiled and I'm suddenly sure that tired Maren is one of my favourite versions of her.

"Well, yes. But you're seriously weird." I continue with the conversation before I can get too lost. "I mean, really? You've never watched a movie twice? Not one?" I don't know if it's because her guard is down or if she just doesn't care, but she looks down for a moment in hesitation. I catch on immediately. "Ah ha! There is one isn't there?"

She lets out a breath through her nose and I'm already proud on the inside because I just know that she knows I can read her too well for her liking. "Well... yes, but-"

"What is it?" I interrupt.

Maren narrows her eyes as she decides wether or not to tell me. I raise my eyebrows expectantly and after a suspenseful amount of time, she relents with a sigh that's more dramatic than usual.

"It was Frozen." She admits. It takes a minute for me to comprehend it, but a smile slowly starts to spread on my face when it does.

"Seriously?" I laugh.

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, but before you get too excited, it's because I was babysitting Marina's little sister and she watched it on repeat. It was an accident that I watched it more than once."

"Ah, I see." I nod in understanding, the explanation making complete sense. I also find it kind of funny that our group's self-proclaimed badass would sacrifice her night and her stupid movie rule to watch an animated movie over and over just to make a kid happy. I'll never voice that opinion though in fear she'll just leave the conversation and finally get that sleep she refuses to admit she's craving. "Frozen was a good movie though."

She gives the same response as earlier. "It was alright." Then her eyes narrow and a tiny smirk comes onto her face. "Why have you seen it?" She asks curiously.

"Joseph wanted to." I say quickly.

At least it's the truth. Joesph gets a little excited every time a new Disney movie comes out, and because he doesn't want to feel like a loser (and because I secretly like to keep up with what Disney is putting out), Stanley and I always join him to watch it. Although Stanley mostly just laughs about how unrealistic it is the entire time, to which inevitably sparks the 'its an animated movie!' argument that passive aggressively continues throughout the duration of the film. Somehow we get through them without anyone getting hurt. Usually.

"Oh, that explains it then." Maren says.

I chuckle. "Yeah, you should have seen him when Hans betrayed Anna. I still don't think think he's over it."

She laughs too, probably imagining an outraged and shocked Joseph getting overly connected to things as he so often does. "I saw it coming." She shrugs.

I shake my head even though I believe it. "How though? He was so nice." I argue.

"Exactly." She nods like her point is made, but continues after my confused look. "Nobody is that nice without having a reason to be. It's just not how the world works." She shakes her head and I instantly know that's how her mind works. It's a sad way to think, but I can only hope she sees me as one of the exceptions. "Plus, he has sideburns." She gives a visible shudder.

I snort at her reaction. "In that case, please remind me never to grow a set of sideburns."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "You really need a reminder?" She looks so horrified that I wouldn't be able to stop my laugh if I bothered to try. "Jesus, if you're actually considering that then I think I need to take another look at continuing this relationship."

She tries to keep up the stoic facade for a moment before it breaks into a grin as I continue to laugh. I watch her progress as she tries not to laugh; she shakes her head, rolls her eyes, and then finally lets it out in a heavy breath she's been holding.

The moment feels so carefree that just for a second I think that I'll tell her. I'll let her know exactly what I'm thinking and be bold and ask her if she feels it too. But even as the thought goes through my mind, I know it won't happen like that. Not here, not that way. Because she's only just began to trust me enough to be like this around me, and I'm not going to ruin it by getting her to close up all over again. I suddenly know that if I ever tell her how I feel, it'll be by accident.

Suddenly the door opens, the laughing conversation of Marina and Joseph washing away our own as quickly as the cold air can rush through the opening. We both stifle our amusement and listen as Joseph calls a dramatic "Greetings, children". Maren rolls her eyes and I notice she's changed her position almost entirely, leaning her elbow on the armrest of the sofa so her back is straighter and her legs are tighter to her body. She still looks relaxed, but nowhere near her comfort level of before.

"How was skating?" I call, trying too hard to sound casual. But why does it suddenly feel like we're hiding something?

"Oh, it was great. I can skate backwards now!" He informs with obvious pride.

"Good for you." I hope the sentence doesn't sound too flat, but I suspect it does when Maren smirks. "Oh, and by the way, we went to the store and got some hot chcocolate while we were there. So-" I pause when I hear the heavy sound of boots rapidly coming down the hall. Joseph emerges, still fully dressed in his winter gear, staring wide eyed at me. "...it's in the cupboard." I finish, not knowing what to make of the look on his face.

"Dude, I love you." He says.

"Right, well please go back to the porch before the snow melts off your boots." I order, rolling my eyes.

He nods and grins, heading back down the hall. "I love you!" He calls back.

"Thanks, Joe." I call back sarcastically. I hear a whoop down the hall quickly followed by the much calmer voice of Marina, who must be soothing his excitement.

I hear the words 'pyjamas' and 'sleep' and footsteps up the stairs. It's not hard to make out that exchange and Marina comes into the kitchen a moment later, not tracking water through the room like her boyfriend. She heads over to the kitchen and starts filling up the kettle, probably for hot chocolate, and I pick up the remote to turn off the TV.

"What movie did you guys watch?" Marina asks, so I hold off on pressing the power button so she can look at the screen. Her eyebrows furrow when she sees the title and she laughs a little. "Marley and Me? Maren, you hate that movie."

For a second, I think I've misheard her. After all, Maren told me literally minutes ago that she has only ever re-watched a movie once in her entire existence. This can't be true. But as Marina keeps fiddling with the kettle, I slowly turn to look at Maren to find her looking anywhere but me. In fact, she seems to be finding the fabric of the couch pretty intriguing at the moment, picking at the threads and offering no retort or denial. My eyebrows shoot up and I try to keep my chuckle quiet, but I know she heard when she glances up to throw a strangely weak glare in my direction. I grin and she rolls her eyes.

Remembering we we're having a conversation with Marina, I face her again and make up an excuse. "Yeah, I kind of made her watch it." I lie, even though it's a tiny bit of the truth. I did make her choose a movie, but everyone knows that you can't make Maren do something she doesn't want to... ever.

"Well, it's a good movie." Marina defends for me.

"Yes it is." I agree. I give Maren a look. "I don't know how anyone could hate it." I accuse. She wrinkles her nose at me and I stuff down another laugh at her complete lack of any sort of defence other than that in the form of facial expressions.

Marina snorts and flicks a switch on the kettle before stepping back, apparently having gotten it to work. "She only hates it because she teared up the first time she watched it."

I can't stifle my surprise this time, my eyebrows shooting up. Marina nods at me as she walks to the hall and Maren protests immediately, apparently having found her voice. "I did not tear up! We've talked about this."

Marina disappears into the hall, shaking her head. "Well, you don't have allergies so..." she calls back. Maren glares in the direction she went, but if she's planning on saying anything, the sound of a door closing stops any more denials.

After Marina is gone, I slowly turn to Maren with a raised eyebrow, trying to decide which part of the conversation to address first. I have a feeling that by the bitter look she's throwing my way, I'm lucky she's still here instead of retreated back into the room. After a moment of silence and a calculated stare on my part, I finally speak.

"So, you've seen the movie before." I state matter-of-factly.

She rolls her eyes, annoyed about repeating the information I just heard. "Yes." She replies shortly. I watch her stretch her legs out across the couch, crossing them at the ankles near my own legs.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I decide to ask an actual question this time, afraid she'll actually get annoyed for real if I just keep stating what we both already know.

"I tried. You know, when I said I knew it was stupid, but then you went to find out about the popcorn so I didn't get the chance." She defends.

"Really? That's barely an effort." I scoff, both of us knowing that if she had something she really wanted to say, she really would have said it. I smirk a little, curious to see what her excuse will be for this one. "Why did you watch it again?"

I tilt my head to the side innocently and she lifts her eyes from the look, finding particular interest in the ceiling fan. I watch her expectantly as she leans her head against her hand again in a way that looks like fidgeting. She glances at me again like she's checking to see if I've moved on yet, but I raise my eyebrows at her, prompting for an explanation. She lets out a sigh and drops her gaze to the couch instead of looking at me.

"Well, you know..." she makes a gesture at me with her free hand, shaking her head. "You suggested it, and you seemed like you really wanted to watch it, and I didn't want to say no to something you were excited about." She finally looks up. I bet she knows her face is red because she presses her lips together, obviously uncomfortable admitting she did something for the sole purpose of making another person happy. "So yeah, I figured I'd watch your stupid movie with you... or whatever."

I only notice that a grin has worked its way onto my face after she stops talking. Maren can't be pleased about the expression but I can't help it. The girl who doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do just broke her stupid movie rule for me to watch a movie she doesn't even like in the first place, and she knows it. She knows, and she's embarrassed.

"Awe, you're so sweet." I say finally. Then I roll my eyes, feigning nonchalance. "Or... whatever." I add in the same muttered way she said it, but I can't match her glare.

"Shut up."

"No, I honestly think it's very nice and-"

"I will kick you, John."

I laugh and I hope she's not too irritated by me, but God the whole thing is pretty funny. Only she would be ashamed about doing something nice for someone. "And you cried the first time-"

"I did not cry. I teared up." She corrects hastily, unknowing that in her defence she actually admitted to tearing up. "There's a difference." She adds.

"Oh yeah?" I question. She keeps her eyes on me at the challenging tone. "What's the difference then?"

We have a staring match for a minute, my gaze teasing while hers looks like it could probably kill me multiple different ways. And because I've rarely seen her without a retort, I immediately deem it as her I-have-nothing-witty-to-respond-with-but-I'll-be-damned-if-I-won't-glare-you-into-submission face. It strikes me as quite a specific type of face, but she's also a specific type of person so I guess I'll let it slide.

"I'm going to bed." She decides finally.

"You do that." I smirk in victory as she stands up and makes a tight turn around the couch. "Try not to think about Marley. You might cry." I can't help but tease. She walks around the back of the couch and I quickly lean forward in fear a retaliation might come in the form of a fist. She just rolls her eyes at my fear, thankfully continuing to the room.

"It's sad when dogs die." She defends simply. "Oh, and by the way," she turns around smoothly, taking a few steps backwards so she can face me. She smirks. "It's still a stupid movie."

"Whatever you say." I grin. She narrows her eyes before smiling herself, turning and disappearing down the hall. "What, you don't want to stay for hot chocolate?" I call jokingly. It might just be me, but I swear I hear her laugh quietly from down the hall.

"Goodnight, John."

Stanley

The mountain is nice at night. Yeah, sure, it's nice in the day too. But in the dark with warm light illuminating the trails and the falling snow and stuff, it looks nice. It's not like I didn't appreciate the view before, but it's a little hard to take it in when I'm focusing on other things. But when I'm stopped like I am now, I can finally look around me and notice what I've been ignoring on my way down.

I sit down in the snow, lodging my goggles on my hat as Riley appears next to me, seeming to sit before she even waits for herself to stop fully. She pulls down the fabric covering her mouth and lets out a breath that unfurls in front of her in a small cloud of fog.

"You know, I wasn't sure about the coat at first."

My random statement almost seems to ring in the quiet air, and I think for a moment that it's so silent my voice could probably be heard at the bottom of the hill. Riley takes her goggles from her eyes and lodges them on the front of her helmet, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Like, it's really bright and I honestly wasn't sure you could pull off the whole... neon orange thing..." I shrug. "But against all odds, it actually looks alright."

Her eyebrows raise as she regards my comment. "Thanks for adding that 'against all odds' bit. I needed that." She rolls her eyes, although despite her natural variety of expressions, she can never seem to get the deadpan down. She's not smiling fully yet, but I know it won't take much more for the feigned offence to give way into a lopsided grin. It never does.

"Alright, fine. You're totally rocking the whole sexy traffic cone look. Happy?"

She hums, only one corner of her mouth lifting. "Sexy, huh? Even though I kind of resent the traffic cone comment, I can deal with where the other part is going."

It's me who breaks first when she says that, a grin taking up my face at her smooth response. She's not the type of person who thinks too hard about her words. How can she when her mind moves too fast for her to think about saying anything else than what's already on her mind? No, Riley is no smooth talker, but it's not the first time she's flirted back with me. It was about a month ago when she started actually carrying on with my comments instead of laughing them off. I'm not sure what changed, but I'm not complaining. I think we both know neither of us are serious (Okay, maybe I am a little, but she doesn't need to know that). It also makes me feel less like an ass about it if she's doing it back.

There's the sound of scraping snow behind us and we both turn to see a couple parents and a kid making their way down the hill. They pass us quickly and Riley chuckles.

"Maybe keep it G-rated though, there are families around."

"Maybe we should go somewhere else then."

"You wish." She laughs.

I sigh, drawn out and heavy, and lean my elbows on my knees. "Yeah, Pierce. I really do." She rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder against my arm, but she's grinning. I smile and look down the trail, recognizing it as close to the bottom. We sit in silence for a minute, letting the snow fall down in the tranquil air, as though the image needs a proper moment to be processed. "You know what I think?" I say eventually.

She feigns a gasp. "When did you start thinking?"

I give her a look but it's hard not to smile when she laughs at my serious expression, and she does that thing where she scrunches up her nose for just a second in the beginning, making her seem so innocent.

"Shut up." I tell her eventually, looking away because I can't just look at her eyes and not be happy. "I was about to say that I think I can race you to the bottom." I state.

She lets out a hum of thought, watching me out of the corner of her eyes like I'm watching her. "Bold claim."

"I'm a bold guy."

She snorts, the coy act gone as quickly as it came. "Yeah, I know." She shakes her head as I smirk in appreciation. "I wouldn't be so sure you'd win though."

"Why? Because you're more aerodynamic?" I guess. She actually looks offended and my smug smile widens.

"No. Because I'm better." She corrects.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see about that."

I push myself up and dust the snow off my gloves before reaching a hand down to help Riley up. Despite the competitive mood now between us, she's not stubborn enough to ignore it, letting me pull her up. She's lighter than I expected but I don't comment on it, deciding that one joke about her size is enough for now. She pulls the neck warmer up over her mouth and we both put our goggles on at the same time.

"Ready?" I ask.

"Are you?"

"Pierce, I'm alway ready for every- Hey! You can't just get a head start while I'm talking!"

I rush to catch up to her, hearing her laugh even as I'm still behind her. To her credit, she does wait until we're side-by-side to actually begin to pick up much speed. And as soon as that happens we're both off.

It actually doesn't take long for Riley to take the lead, my jab about her size actually turning out to be true, which I'm surprised about but she probably knew anyway. I don't know if it's because she wants to make it fair or not, but she does a little bit more of a zig zag pattern than me, making our speeds pretty even. I mostly gain ground on the turns. I've noticed she takes them wide, so I try to make them as tight as possible even if it is slightly dangerous.

From behind her, I can affirm what I said earlier about her jacket looking nice. It's not even too bright when it's dark out, and even in the day it goes with her black snow pants nicely (which Maren claimed is miracle considering she picked out the snow pants herself too). It all seems a tad loose on her, but a lot of her clothes seems to be that way anyway so it suits her. It's not all the clothes that make her look good though, it's also the confident way she speeds down the hill. I was surprised by it at first, because she's usually so uncoordinated, but then I figured that it's probably not a coincidence that she excels at something where her feet are literally strapped together.

Suddenly I notice that we're close to the bottom of the hill, the warm light of the lodge coming into veiw as we pass under moving chairs on the lift. Up ahead there's one more turn. A steep one. I know it's my last chance to catch up and when I see her slowing down to go around it, I let myself go full speed.

A large spray of snow is kicked up as I whip around the turn, putting all my focus on leaning into it and not hitting Riley, who takes the turn a couple feet away. I thankfully manage not to fall and use the momentum to speed myself into the lead. I grin as I realize I'm home free. The trail ends in a short, steep slope at the bottom of the hill, and it looks like I'll be getting there first.

I can't resist looking over my shoulder at Riley, now quite a good distance behind me due to the turn. I can't see her facial expression by she shakes her head so I picture her rolling her eyes. Just for good measure, I send her a cheerful wave.

She suddenly comes to a stop and I worry for a second that I've taken the cockiness to far. But then she yells out my name and something along the lines of 'watch out', but I don't hear it because my snowboard gets hooked on something, and then it loses contact with the ground, and then... well, I'm not exactly sure what happens.

I bang into a hard thing -ouch, a really hard thing- and my body goes crashing to the ground. Despite its soft appearance, I find out that snow is not the best cushion when you faceplant into it. I'm pretty sure I tumble head over heels before coming to a thudding stop on my back. I guess I should have remembered about the patch of trees that separates the two exiting slopes. I breath heavy for a moment, vaguely wondering when my goggles and hat decided to dislodge itself from my head, but then I remember that it probably has something to do with the really hard thing I banged into.

"And that's why you should wear a helmet."

When I look to the edge of the tree line, I half expect a doubling image to be swimming around my vision like in the cartoons, but it doesn't happen. Instead, all I get is one, smaller than average, definitely not cartoon girl standing in the light of the trail with a laugh in her voice. Even despite the embarrassment of the fall, the sound still produces a small, exhausted smile from me. Until I remember what she said about a helmet, and in turn remember my head, and I find there's pain in it.

Strangely, it's more of a stinging feeling instead of the expected throbbing considering I hit it, and it's only on the top right corner of where I assume my hair line to be. I take off my glove, reaching an arm up to check and frowning when I feel something on my hand.

"Are you okay?" The laugh is gone from Riley voice now, replaced with concern. I take my hand down to look at it, immediately noticing the blood coating my fingers. It startles me into sitting up, black spots appearing in my sight and making me shake my head to clear it.

"I think I hit my head." I mutter, touching the spot again and letting out a hiss of pain when it stings.

"Alright, I'm coming in." Riley decides. "Just give me a sec."

I slowly scoot back until I sit against a tree, noticing the blood left in the snow from my hand. "Uh, you're not scared of blood are you?" I ask.

She snorts and steps out of her snowboard, lodging it against a tree and putting her helmet and goggles in the same place. "Scared of blood? I'm a girl, Stanley. Do you know I what I do every month?"

She starts clumsily making her way through the snow while I laugh a little. "Well no, but I didn't think it involved spontaneously bleeding every-" I let the words fall as it clicks. "Oh." She chuckles, the sound uninterrupted even when she almost trips up, righting herself with the speed and absentmindedness that only comes from a person who's been clumsy their whole life. "You really are an open book aren't you?"

"It's common knowledge."

"Well, I didn't need a reminder."

"Maybe not. But you did need a distraction."

The statement makes me furrow my eyebrows, the pain the movement brings to my cut making me remember exactly what she's referring to. As I watch her stumble through the snow in the few feet off the trail it takes to get to me, I become aware that distracting people from themselves might just be her way of comforting.

"Okay, what do you have done to yourself?" She kneels down in front of me and squints at my head. Then she sighs. "It's too dark, I can't see anything. Why couldn't you have gotten injured on the trail, preferably under one of the lights?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you were so eager to come in after me." I smirk, feeling something running down the side of my head. Probably blood.

"Be quiet and hold these." She shoves her gloves into my lap and unzips her coat, digging around for the inside pocket that she put her phone into. Turning on the flashlight app, she zippers her jacket back up before looking at me, and I watch her eyes widen, never good at hiding her expressions. "Oh, you are bleeding. I thought you were just being a baby, but this is a pretty good amount of..."

Riley presses her lips together and shoves the phone in my lap too, quickly insisting that I be useful and point it upwards so she can see. I do as she asks and her eyebrows tug together in worry. She makes a move like she's going to touch it but then pulls her hands away, unsure and shaking her head. She lets a sigh out through her teeth.

"Shit."

The word is so muttered and under her breath that I barely hear it, and even then I'm not sure it's real. I just stare for a minute at her as she debates what to do, uncaring for her unusual language choice. I've seen her come close to swearing before, and often find amusement in the way she starts the words and then hastily adds on an innocent ending, but I've never actually heard her say a curse word before. And as I look at her, I realize she doesn't even know she said it.

"Oh my God." I find my voice and she shifts her focus from my injury to my eyes, startled.

"What? Does it hurt?"

"You just swore."

She scoffs. "No I didn't."

My mouth drops open. "You did!"

"I don't swear, Stan." She replies, a hint of irritation in her voice. I raise my eyebrows, not caring about the sting in my head or her orders to keep still.

"Oh..." a laugh runs through my accusation and she looks at me like I'm crazy. "But you did."

She rolls her eyes, which I triumphantly take as a relent. When she sees my grin still stuck in place, she gives me a stern look. "Shut up and let me take a look at this."

"You've been looking-"

"Shh..." she focuses on it again after I shut my mouth, her hands staying near my head like she wants to do something but is afraid to touch anything in fear of making it worse. Eventually she sighs for the third time in two minutes, sitting back on her heels. "I think we should get you inside and find a first aid kit. There's not much we can do up here." She unstraps my snowboard she says it, looking around.

I shrug as she puts her phone back and stands up, pulling on her gloves. "You really don't think there's anything we could do up here... in the dark, secluded woods?" I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.

"You know that's how most horror movies start, right?" She tilts her head a little and reaches a hand out to help me up. I take it but rely mostly on myself to stand, not wanting to pull her down too.

When I stand I'm right in front of her, our faces almost touching when I look down and she looks up at the same time. "Lucky for you, I left my murdering tendencies at home."

She chokes on a laugh, looking down so her forehead is resting on the chest of my jacket as she giggles. Another thing about her; she doesn't exactly have a personal space bubble. It wasn't obvious at first, but after a while I started to notice little things, like how she puts her hand on my arm when she talks, or how instead of moving away when I get a tad too close, she leans into me. Some people might be bothered by being touched for no reason all the time, but I don't mind. I've never really had a girl friend -notice the space between the words- that I can get this close with and not feel the need to initiate anything else. Well, that's not exactly true, because right now I do feel the urge to put my arms around her and pull her to me, but I resist it. Somehow, the rest of the contact feels like enough. For now.

She lifts her head after a moment, the lopsided grin on her face that makes one eye crinkle more than the other just a little. "I didn't think it could get creepier, but-" she steps back and lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "Congratulations, I guess? You did it."

She turns to walk out of the trees and I follow close behind her, snowboard under my arm. "Hey, I said I wasn't going to murder you."

"While at the same time admitting you had murderous tendencies." There's a laugh in there, coming through at the end of the sentence.

"I guess I can see why that would be a red flag." I admit. We emerge into the light and she turns to get her snowboard. Her eyebrows tug together when she turns back to me and she sucks in a breath through her teeth.

"It looks even worse in the light." She winces.

"Really?" I touch my head but immediately pull my hand back when a dash of pain runs through it.

"Oh yeah, the cut looks bad too." She adds quickly. She makes a gesture at my face. "I was just talking about that area in general." She holds her snowboard in front of her as a shield when I raise my eyebrows threateningly at her. "Your hat and goggles are over there." She nods at the the edge of the tree patch and takes a cautious step back. I look at her for a moment longer but can't stifle a smile when she slowly slides on her helmet for further protection.

When I get my stuff on and I'm ready to go again, we go slowly down the hill this time. "So... about that curse word..." I start casually.

She speeds ahead of me again and my smirk turns into a curse word of my own as I try to catch up. Screw aerodynamics.

. . .

"... and I told him multiple times to wear a helmet, but he just wouldn't listen! And now here we are."

I sigh from one of the empty cafeteria tables as Riley finishes telling the cashier about my fall in great detail. She actually got the first aid kit she went over there for a while ago, the rest of the time was occupied making conversation with the -much less attractive than me- checkout guy. He seems to agree with her, eagerly listening as she spills all the details, even her views on who won the race. I disagree entirely with her on that one, but I decide to leave the argument for another time, attempting to wait patiently as she finishes up her conversation.

"Anyway, thanks for the kit, Brent. I might see you around!" She smiles politely at him and grabs the first aid kit, and making her way over to the table I've claimed.

I notice that he watches her leave for a moment before quickly turning away and grabbing a broom to resume the task he was doing before we entered the eerily empty cafeteria. We were going to go to a bathroom to clean me up until Brent informed us that they were being cleaned. He quickly got Riley the first aid kit, a roll of paper towels, and a glass of water when she asked, and he said it was okay to clean it up out here.

"How do you know his name?" I ask when she sits down across from me on the bench, a leg on either side of the seat so she can face me. I take the same position.

"It was on his name tag." She explains. It's a pretty obvious answer, but I'm still fed up for some reason. She opens up the kit before I have a chance to think about it. "Let's see what we have here."

Her hands come toward my face instead of the gauze and bandaids I see in the red box. She touches gently below the cut but I flinch away with a cry anyway. Her eyes go wide and she pulls her hands back like she's been burned. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No, your hands are cold." I say, wincing.

"Ugh, really?" She rolls her eyes and gives my shoulder a push when I grin. "Idiot."

She reaches for it again but I lean away before she can touch me. "No, I was serious. Your hands are freezing." I eye her hands warily and she sighs but backs off.

"My hands are always cold. Either deal with it or-"

I grab one of her hands while she's talking and cut off her sentence as I rub it between mine. I feel the chill under my palms and suddenly know that this isn't a fast enough method. Looking into her eyes as though asking permission, I cup my hands around hers and bring them to my lips, blowing hot air on her fingers. I'm not sure if she knows her contented sigh is audible, but it makes me grin anyway. My stomach flips when she smiles back.

After a moment she must deem her hand warm enough because she tugs it out of my grip with a cheerful 'thank you', immediately reaching up to my head again. She nudges my arm with her other hand and I chuckle, grabbing that one and doing the same thing.

I don't pull away when she steadies my head this time, her touch so light I can barely feel it. Tilting her head, she frowns a little at the injury. "Are you sure you hit your head?" She asks, fixing her eyes back on mine.

"Pretty sure. Why? What does it look like?" I give her hand a final rub and let go. She takes the other away from my head too, busying herself with ripping off a paper towel as she tries not to smile. It doesn't work. The right corner of her mouth pulls up.

"It looks like a scratch from a tree branch or something." She explains. She dabs the paper towel in the cup of water and squeezes some of the excess water out, humming a little as she brings it to my head. "Which means, you are being a baby about it."

I strike an expression of offence, moving away from her hand. Her amusement vanishes and she whines a little at how difficult I'm making it. "I'm not being a baby! Do see how much blood there is?"

"Blood because of a scratch, not blunt force trauma to the head." She gives me a pointed look. "And if you saw how much blood there is, you'd understand why I just want you to stay still, so come on." She holds up the towel, now stained with a twinge of red.

"Not until you apologize." I argue stubbornly. I smirk when she sighs.

"Please stop making this harder than it has to be."

"I'm not the one making it-"

I'm suddenly jerked forward and it takes me a moment to realize she's latched a hand onto my shirt, tugging me forward so we're eye-level. There isn't actually a smile on her lips, but I can see the expression in her eyes, and in that moment something stirs in me, because there's something about her pulling me closer and those eyes that just... does stuff to me.

She touches the cold paper towel to my head once again, and I don't protest this time because I'm too busy noticing how we've gotten closer. I've been this close to her before, but it's only now that I realize I've never actually looked. Sure I know she has brown eyes and dimples, but if I looked I surely would have noticed the dark flecks of brown in her eyes or -even more startling- the very light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Even when I sit back up as she continues to dab away at the spot, I wonder if she's always had the features. As much time as I've spent with her, I feel bad for never noticing these small things.

"You have freckles." I state, tilting my head a little as I try to decide why the features that didn't stand out until now suddenly look so natural. It's probably because I've always seen it, I just haven't acknowledged it.

Her fingers squeeze gently on my head as she straightens it. "Uh, yeah." She doesn't seem like she knows what to say. "They're really light, so I'm pretty sure most people don't notice." She shrugs.

"Well, they're-" cute. The word is one my tongue but I stop before it can come out. Cute seems too small for her, but any other word would probably just be creepy, so I redirect the sentence all together. "They suit you."

"Thanks." She lifts a shoulder in a shrug and shoots me a small smile. But then the paper towel rubs against the cut and she winces when I do, tugging her arm away. "Sorry."

"It's okay." I reply immediately, feeling a little bad about making her feel guilty for doing what she needs to do.

She rinses the towel in the water, turning it a little pink when she rings it out again. "You know what I think?" She puts it back, this time directly on the cut. She keeps talking so I can focus on her voice instead of the sting. "I think you didn't actually hit anything. Your board got hooked on a tree and the momentum to the ground caused you to believe you hit something before falling down, when really it was just the snow." Seeing that I'm actually accepting her explanation, she smiles and continues. "You nicked your head on a tree branch and it pulled your hat and goggles off, and gave you this cut."

I narrow my eyes at her for long enough for her to finish cleaning the blood away. "Did you get CSI up there or something?"

"No, it's just my own assumptions." She admits with a chuckle. She takes a bottle of something out of the first aid kit and pours a little onto a new paper towel. When she sees me eyeing it warily, she explains. "It's just something to clean it. It's non-sting."

"Right." I reply doubtfully.

She looks up at me with a smile so gentle it would be condescending on anyone else, but on her it's just reassuring. "I promise." She says. When I'm still unconvinced, I watch her put on a deadly serious expression before lifting her hand between us, her pinky stuck out. I raise my eyebrows in disbelief at the childish gesture but she just keeps her expression the same.

"You're serious." I state.

"Oh yeah."

She's fighting a smile now, teeth catching her bottom lip as the corner of her mouth pulls up anyway. I try not to let the expression effect me, struggling to maintain a deadpan as I reach up and hook my pinky with hers. A grin breaks her already crumbling resolve and she lets out short giggle at my flat agreement. And damn it if I don't grin back like an idiot, even when she moves to get the paper towel.

"Ready?" She asks when she holds it up.

I nod and brace myself for the sting that usually accompanies cleaning a cut, but the only pain comes from the pressure of the towel. She sees my surprise and raises her eyebrows smugly.

"I told you." She sing-songs.

"Congratulations, you can read a label."

Smirking, Riley takes the paper towel away and picks up a dry one. "Sarcasm is not becoming of you, Stanley."

"Well, maybe swearing isn't becoming of you." I counter. She lets out a disbelieving noise, patting the cut dry.

"I didn't swear." She protests weakly, sounding like she's giving up.

"You can say what you want, but I know what I heard." I say stubbornly, earning me an eye roll.

She lets out a heavy sigh. "Whatever." It only takes her a moment to smile at her own dramatics, easily leaving the annoyed facade behind. She gently dabs the cut one last time before taking her hand away and rifling through the first aid box.

"What are you looking for now?" I ask.

"A bandaid." She replies. "Sadly, there's no superhero ones so you'll have to deal with a plain one." She pulls out a small bandaid -smaller than I thought considering how big I thought the cut was- and starts opening the package.

"It's okay. Beige brings out my eyes." I wink at her and she laughs, shaking her head. She pulls open the package, carefully bringing the bandaid toward my head.

"It might if your hair wasn't in the way." I feel the bandaid being gently pushed on my head.

"My hair doesn't cover my eyes." I correct. Really, it would if I didn't style it so most of it flops to one side of my head, but I probably have hat hair so I assume it's not exactly behaving at the moment.

"Still." Riley tilts her head to the side with a little smile. I'm surprised when her fingers leave the bandaid and thread through my hair instead, and it definitely doesn't feel way better than it should. Not a bit. Then she gives it a soft tug. "It's too long." She takes her hand away with a sigh and I'm almost disappointed when she stands up, gathering the garbage into her hands.

"Hey, chicks dig this hair." I run a hand through it and smirk.

She purses lips, letting out a breath through her nose. "Whatever you say."

I stare after her with a threatening look when she turns to walk away before I can speak. She looks back halfway there and laughs when she sees the expression, making me smile too. I start putting on my gear as she returns the first aid kit after another detailed exchange with Brent. He looks at her again as she comes back, but quickly adverts his eyes when he sees me watching. I get it, she's cute and talkative and nice, but it doesn't mean he has to make his interest so obvious.

Riley comes back and we both get the rest of our gear on loosely, silently deeming it time to head back to the room. She puts her coat on without zipping it up and her helmet on without fastening the strap, giving her a beautifully casual look that my eyes get stuck on for a minute. I notice Brent watching and quickly tear my eyes away like he did earlier. Okay, maybe I'm a bit of a hypocrite.

We grab our snowboards from outside, the only ones left out there considering the hill closes in fifteen minutes. We take the wooden bridge around the front of the building and as we're walking across the parking lot, I put an arm around Riley's shoulders, pulling her tightly to my side.

"You know, I really think we should talk about that swear word."

"I didn't freaking swear!"

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Alright, that's it for now. Again, sorry for the wait. Thanks for reading and leave a review if you feel like it, thanks :)