"Somebody has to."
He stops walking and turns to face me. "Who takes care of you, Iris?"
The question again. Like he can see straight through to the lonely truth I've been avoiding for two years.
"I take care of myself."
"That's not the same thing."
Before I can respond, he continues up the trail, leaving me to follow.
The viewpoint is worth the hike. We emerge from the trees onto a rocky outcrop that overlooks the valley. Mountains stretch in every direction, snow-covered and majestic. The sky is impossibly blue.
"Wow," I breathe.
I move closer to the edge, taking in the vista. The world feels enormous from up here, and for the first time in years, I feel small in a way that's freeing instead of diminishing. Like maybe my problems aren't as insurmountable as they seem from down in the valley.
I feel him move behind me, close enough that his warmth seeps through my coat. Not touching, but almost.
"Cold?" he asks, voice low.
"A little."
His arms come around me from behind, pulling me back against his chest. I freeze for a second, then melt into him, letting his solid warmth surround me. His chin rests on top of my head.
"Better?"
I nod, not trusting my voice. We stand like that for a long time, wrapped together, and I try to memorize everything about this moment. The mountains. The silence. The feeling of being held by someone who makes me feel both protected and dangerously reckless.
Eventually the cold becomes too much, and we separate. The walk back feels different, closer somehow. Our hands keep brushing as we walk side by side on the wider sections of trail.
On a downhill stretch, the path becomes icy. My feet slide, and without a word, Silas reaches out and takes my hand. His grip is firm, steadying. We don't let go even when we reach level ground.
His hand is warm and strong, completely engulfing mine. Our fingers thread together naturally, and I find myself studying the contrast, his rough calluses against my softer skin, his size against mine. Something about it feels inevitable, like our hands were always meant to fit together this way.
We're almost back to the cabin when my foot catches on a hidden root beneath the snow. I stumble forward with a yelp, arms windmilling, and before I can hit the ground, strong arms catch me.
Silas pulls me against his chest, one arm banding around my waist, the other supporting my back. For a moment we're frozen like that, me half-suspended, him holding me effortlessly.
"You okay?" His voice is sharp with concern.
"Yeah. Just clumsy."
I expect him to set me down. Instead, he shifts his grip and lifts me completely, cradling me against his chest like I weigh nothing.
"Silas! I can walk—"
"I know."
There's something in his tone that makes me stop protesting. I wrap my arms around his neck and let him carry me the rest of the way to the cabin. He's not even breathing hard when we reach the porch.
He sets me down gently, but his hands linger on my waist. We're standing so close I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
The intensity there steals my breath.
"Inside," he says finally. "Before we freeze."
The cabin is warm, fire crackling. I shrug off my coat with shaking hands, acutely aware of him doing the same behind me. When I turn around, he's closer than expected.
