"Everyone loves Carol of the Bells." Cole explains as the instrumental music begins to play.
"Muchbetter."
"I never would have guessed a year ago that we'd be here right now." Nick's voice rumbles through his chest.
"Me either." I tell him honestly, watching the light flicker around the fake snow at the bottom of the snow globe just a few inches away.
A year ago, I thought my heart was going to give out from the grief. I definitely didn't imagine that I would end up here with him, withthem.
"But I'm glad we're here..." Nick's fingers are on the upper part of my arm, drawing a pattern on my flesh and heating my blood to boiling.
Distantly, I'm uncomfortable, aware that he's crossing a boundary we never should even toe the line of. I'm not attracted to him; I never have thought of him as anything other than a friend, a brother, even. But as his fingertips trace my flesh, drawing goosebumps to rise on my skin, I fail to suppress a shudder. It feels wrong, and yet somehow... good.
"Together."
His breath is hot on my neck, uncomfortably so, and I push away, suddenly finding myself needing air.
"What's wrong?" Nick calls after me. His voice sounds far away, like he's at the other end of a long tunnel, and the music that's still playing from my phone feels like it's inside of my veins. Suddenly my brain feels too crowded.
"Need air." I gasp, stumbling through the rows of pews, grabbing hold of them for balance as the world around me blurs.
"You need your coat before you go out there!"
I don't know who called after me, but I know whose hand closes around my waist, dragging me back against him before I even make it to the door.
"Stay, snow angel. I'm not done with you yet."
"Nick..."
My tongue doesn't move the way it's supposed to, and even though my veins are flooding with adrenaline and something is telling me that everything is wrong, I can't seem to get a grip on myself. It feels like I'm having a stroke, but I don't know what that would actually feel like.
All I know is that everything seems... off.
"It's okay." Nick assures me, wiping a hand over my cheek and swiping hair off my face.
I blink, suddenly aware that he's above me. Did I fall?
I'm on my back, and when I try to move, my limbs don't respond. They're dead weight; I'd think they were gone entirely if I couldn't see them when I roll my head to glance down at my feet— my bare feet.
Where are my shoes?
"What's going on?" I mumble. I remember getting warm and taking off some layers, but I don't remember taking off my socks or shoes.
"Nothing. We're just playing a game... like when we were kids. Remember?"
When we were kids.
My mind goes to thoughts of tag and hide and seek, the pretend play, house and doctor, husband and wife. He used to say he was my husband...
My brain conjures up an image of his parents' basement, and something uncomfortable twists in my stomach, a physical reaction to the visual memory.
"I don't want to play."
"It will be fun." He promises, and his voice is so much closer all of a sudden.
I open my eyes; I hadn't realized I had closed them, but now he's looming over me, right there... so close.
"Nick?" My voice is shaking.I'mshaking.
