Invisible Strings II

Chapter 9: Almost

You're doing the right thing, she told herself.

Hannah couldn't stay here forever. The roads would close again if another system rolled through. The campus would be safer. Normal. Full of people who weren't carrying impossible truths in their ribcage.

Isadora's grip tightened around the handle.

She hadn't planned for the walk to matter like it did. For the gazebo. For the way Hannah laughed when she fell like the ground itself was forgiving her. She hadn't planned on the near-kiss cracking something open she'd spent months sealing shut.

But plans didn't survive Hannah. They never had.

Isadora paused, leaning on the shovel again, shoulders rising and falling with slow breaths. The cold barely touched her. Her body running warm in that familiar, animal way, but her hands still stung. Maybe it was good. Maybe she deserved to feel something sharp.

If she stays, Isadora thought, she'll remember.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But pieces would start slipping back through the cracks. Music. Touch. Familiar rooms. And when it did, Isadora would be the first thing her memories reached for.

And then... what?

Love, revived without context. Grief doubled. The truth of the potion unraveling, consequences she didn't fully understand but feared anyway. Hannah's life balanced on something fragile, something Isadora had already broken once trying to fix it.

Isadora scraped snow off the last edge of the drive, hands steady despite the storm roaring around her. This wasn't about what she wanted. Wanting Hannah was the easiest thing she had ever done.

Letting her go was the hard part.

She glanced up again toward the window... half hoping Hannah would still be there. She wasn't. Isadora exhaled slowly, picked up her pace, and kept shoveling.

-

Isadora came in breathless, the door thudding shut behind her as snow shook loose from her coat. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, hair damp at the edges, scarf half undone. She braced one hand against the wall as she bent to untie her boots, lungs still trying to catch up.

"Driveway's clear," she said, a little rough. "Should hold if it doesn't dump again."

Hannah watched her for a second from the other side of the room. She hadn't planned this out word for word. She'd just... let herself decide. Hannah crossed the room. "I'm not leaving."

Isadora's fingers stilled, tugging at a frozen lace. She looked up from where she was crouched, brows knitting together. "...What?"

Hannah swallowed, then repeated, steadier this time. "I'm not going back to campus. Not tonight. Not... right now."

The silence stretched, thick and fragile.

Isadora straightened slowly, still kneeling, her expression already shifting into something careful, something practiced. "Hannah," she started gently, "the roads are open now, and if you wait too long-"

"That's not what this is," Hannah said, shaking her head.

She hesitated only a second longer before lowering herself down so they were eye level, knees pressing into the rug. It felt strange, closing the distance, but not wrong.

"I thought about it," Hannah said quietly. "I didn't want to just say it without thinking because... I know you're trying to help me. And I know you think this is what's best."

Isadora's jaw tightened. "I just don't want you stuck here. Or missing your life because you're worried about me."

Hannah huffed out a soft, almost sad laugh. "You hear yourself, right?"