Love, Emma

Chapter Forty-Seven:

"Sorry, did I make you leave the game?" I pull myself up to a sitting position, so I can tuck my feet under my legs.

Almost instantly they're met with the soggy fabric of my snow-pants, making me frown. I hate wet socks.

Nathan can't help but chuckle at my expense, reaching his arms out to pull me closer, "D-don't w-worry ab-about it. L-let's g-get y-you o-out of th-those."

While Nathan hangs my snow-pants and jacket out to dry, I pull on a pair of dry socks, and a thermal sweater underneath my pullover one. I find a blanket in my bag to wrap around my jean-clad legs, and am just about ready to settle down for the night when he returns.

I can see other shadows passing by the front of the tent behind him, most likely the others having finished their game of cards, and after a few moments the fire is put out, so that the shadows flicker into darkness.

"A-are y-yo-you ok-okay with u-us sh-sharing a t-te-tent?" He has his hand resting on the zipper of the tent flap, as if prepared to bolt at the first sign of discomfort.

"Of course. Are you okay with it?"

He nods, offering up a small smile in reassurance as he slowly settles himself down to take off his boots.

I climb into my sleeping bag while he arranges all his gear, and by the time he turns to look at me, all he can see between the hem of the sleeping bag and my hood is the bridge of my nose and my eyes.

Fighting off a smile, he pokes my figure as he steps around me to climb in his own sleeping bag.

"Y-yo-you l-look li-like a b-burrito. O-or a cat-cat-caterpillar."

"I feel like one."

"W-we c-co-could m-ma-make a-a c-combined b-buritto-o." The words are barely out of his mouth and he's already blushing, unable to meet my eyes as he starts fiddling with his hands.

Carefully, I sit up out of my burrito and crawls on my hands and knees towards him, stopping once my legs brush his.

"Nathan, sweetie, look at me."

"I'm s-so-sorry I-I d-didn't me-mean to b-be s-so f-forward, I- "

"Nathaniel, it's okay- "

His eyes widen, "w-what?"

"I said it's okay, you didn't say anything wrong- "

"N-no. Th-the o-o-other pa-part." He clears his throat before continuing. "You've ne-never c-ca-called m-me N-Nath-Nathaniel b-before."

"Sorry, do you not like to be called that? I didn't know, I've just heard your family say it, and it slipped out, if you don't like it I won't say it again- "

"N-no." He shakes his head with a small, shadow of a smile, seeming to have forgotten why I called him Nathaniel in the first place. "I l-li-like wh-when y-you s-say i-it. Y-you m-make it so-sound s-so...y-you ma-make m-me s-so-sound s-so...b-be-better. Nath-Nathaniel s-sounds l-li-like the k-ki-kind of g-guy wh-who de-deserves a g-girl l-like y-you."

My hands are shaking as I place them on either side of his jaw, either from the cold, or the weight of his words; I can't tell.

"Nathan, the kind of guy who deserves me is sitting right in front of me. Regardless what name I call him."

"A-are y-you su-su-sure?"

I guide his head down to meet my kiss, and can't help but smile in how quickly he gets lost in it; at least it's not just me.

His hands trail hesitantly down my shoulders to my waist, until he has a good enough grip to lift me up into his lap. I can't help but blush at the intimacy of it all; my legs bent up on either side of his hips, his hands pressing into my back, urging us impossibly closer together, my fingers laced around his neck, thumb rubbing a slow circle into the short buzz of hair he has there.