Invisible String - Cregan Stark

Twelve~ Flattened

Cregan didn't respond—just grinned, an actual grin that split across his usually solemn face like light cutting through clouds. And then he threw again.

The fight began in earnest. We darted between trees, snow flying in quick bursts, our breath puffing in clouds.

He nearly caught me once, and I shrieked when his hand grazed my waist. Laughter burst out of him like thunder over the land.

His laugh.

Low. Rough. Like it shook something loose in his chest. A sound so rare, so utterly real. I couldn't stop smiling at the sound.

What followed was a flurry of flying snow and darting cloaks. We chased one another between trees, Cregan ducking behind branches and lobbing handfuls of snow with precision and more of his laughter—deep and loud—escaped whenever he landed a hit.

I peeked over a log, grinning, heart thudding. My whole body ached with breathlessness and cold, and yet I felt alive in a way I hadn't in years.

Then—crack—a snowball hit my face.

I gasped, spat snow, then burst into breathless laughter.

"You'll pay for that!" I shrieked, grabbing a full handful of snow.

I ran behind a tree, shaped the snowball, peeked around the trunk, and nailed him in the chest.

He grunted.

Snowballs flew with increasing recklessness. One hit my hip, another my shoulder. I curved around a tree and smacked him in the back of the head.

He ducked and chucked a mound of snow into my path. I shrieked as I skidded through it, my breath hitching.

Another snowball hit me square in the back, and I spun to see him grinning broadly. I threw one back, hitting his thigh.

Then—he charged.

I yelped, snow crunching beneath my boots, and ran as fast as I could, legs cutting through the thick drifts. Laughter spilled from me, unrestrained and high-pitched, echoing across the frozen woods.

I darted around a tree, twisting to throw one last snowball, but my foot found ice instead of snow. I skidded—and a force collided with me with a low, startled shout.

We tumbled together, snow flying in clouds, cloaks flaring like wings torn from the air. The world tilted as I struck the ground, cold biting through layers, and a heavy weight pressed over me.

Cregan landed atop me—but carefully. His arms braced on either side, knees keeping his bulk mostly off. Still, the closeness was overwhelming. Too much.

Instinct drove my hands to his chest, gripping the fur of his cloak, pressing against the warmth beneath the leather and wool. My lungs burned with sharp breaths. So did his.

The laughter died on our tongues immediately.

His face hovered above mine. Too close. His breath puffed in white clouds against my cheek. Despite his size, despite the power I knew lay coiled in his arms, he moved with a gentleness I hadn't expected—like I might shatter if he pressed too hard.

Snow clung to his hair, dusting the strands like frost. His cheeks were flushed from the chase, his eyes—storm-dark, piercing—locked on mine.

I could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingers, fast and strong, vibrating through the layers of cloth and fur.

Then his hand moved, deliberate, slow, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

His glove was cold against my skin, but the motion held warmth, care, something intimate.