Invisible Strings II

Chapter 9: Almost

Hannah stepped off the trail without asking, boots crunching through untouched snow toward it. She ran a gloved hand along one of the posts, smiling in a way that was small and unguarded. "It's really pretty," she said. Not like she was making conversation. Just stating a fact.

Isadora stayed back on the path, hands tucked into her coat pockets, watching. There was no tension in Hannah's shoulders now. No searching. No pushing. Just... Hannah. Existing. Curious. Quietly delighted by a half-broken gazebo in the woods.

Isadora smiled before she realized she was doing it.

Hannah stepped up onto the gazebo, testing the boards beneath her boots. The snow had melted slightly there, leaving the wood dark and slick with ice. The moment she shifted her weight... She slipped. "Oh-!"

Isadora gasped, instinct already pulling her forward. "Hannah-"

But Hannah landed hard on her butt with a dull thump and then burst out laughing before Isadora even reached her.

"I'm okay," she said quickly, waving her off as she pushed herself up, still laughing. "I swear. That was just... wow. That's slick."

Isadora let out the breath she'd been holding, her worry dissolving into something warmer. "You're unbelievable," she said, shaking her head. "You've always been clumsy."

Hannah blinked at the word always, then decided, clearly, not to touch it. Instead, she grinned. "Hey," she said defensively, stepping back onto the slick spot and spinning carefully, arms out like she was on an ice rink. "This is not clumsy. This is... artistic risk-taking."

Isadora didn't answer right away. She just watched.

The way Hannah spun wasn't graceful—not really. It was hesitant, uneven, her balance off by just enough to make it human. A little ridiculous. A little brave. Snow caught in her hair, her laugh rising into the open air like it had nowhere better to be.

For a moment, Isadora forgot the storm. Forgot the potion. Forgot the rules she had built her entire heart around.

All she could see was the girl she loved, alive in the world, not searching for answers, not breaking apart... just being. The same way she used to spin in their kitchen, socks sliding on wood floors, music playing too loud in the background. The same crooked smile. The same reckless joy.

God, Isadora thought quietly, it's still you.

Her chest tightened, not sharp, not painful. Just full.

When Hannah hopped down from the gazebo, brushing snow from her coat, Isadora finally found her voice again, clearing her throat like she'd been gone somewhere far away. "Definitely clumsy," she said, softer than before.

Hannah shot her a playful look. "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

Isadora smiled, not wide, not careless, but real. A small roll of her eyes before she waved her hand to get Hannah down.

They turned back toward the trail then. Falling into step together as the gazebo faded behind them, Isadora carrying that image with her like something fragile and precious.

A reminder. A memory she would never let go of. Even if Hannah could never remember it the same way.

-

By the time they reached the cabin, the cold had worked its way deep, the kind that clung even after you stepped inside. Isadora shrugged out of her coat first, already moving with purpose.

"Go warm up," Isadora said gently, nodding toward the couch. "I'll shovel real quick while it's light out."

Hannah paused, watching her pull her boots back on, scarf halfway wrapped, as this had already been decided.