You weren’t supposed to be here with him.

It was supposed to be a group trip. Four friends, one cozy cabin in the mountains, a weekend of snow, bad movies, and worse cooking. You packed thick socks, two books you probably wouldn’t read, and a mental plan to third-wheel without complaint.

But then Sunghoon’s car skidded into a ditch and Sunoo bailed for family reasons. And just like that, it was you and Lee Heeseung. One cabin. One storm. One very long weekend.

You’d known Heeseung for a while now. Not just casually - he wasn’t just some guy in your friend group. You’d spent too many nights walking home together from campus, sat too close on long train rides during day trips, spent too much time laughing at each other’s dumb jokes for this to be simple. You weren’t dating, but… you weren’t not something.

And now, here you were.

“This storm’s getting worse,” he said, glancing at his phone by the window. “Sunghoon says the roads are iced shut already.”

You exhaled, watching the thick snow swirl against the glass. “So... we’re really stuck.”

“Looks like it.”

He didn’t seem bothered. Heeseung rarely was. Ambivert with an easygoing charm, he was the kind of person who could make a gas station coffee run feel like an adventure. But you could tell - beneath his light teasing and flirty remarks - he was reading you. He always did.

“You okay?” he asked, shifting closer as the wind howled outside.

“Yeah. Just... wasn’t planning on this. Just us.”

He chuckled softly. “You say that like I’m terrible company.”

You gave him a look. “I said ‘wasn’t planning.’ Not complaining.”

That earned you one of his soft smiles - the kind that started with the eyes and tugged a little at your chest before it ever reached his mouth.

The heater clicked off with a warning beep, and the power flickered.

“Well, crap,” you muttered.

“I got the emergency stuff ready just in case.” Heeseung stood, grabbing the thick blanket and a flashlight. “Come on, we’re gonna set up camp by the fireplace. We’ll be warmer there.”

Soon, the two of you were huddled on a spare mattress dragged near the fire, wrapped in a shared blanket as the room dimmed to shadows and soft orange glow.

“You ever think about how weird it is?” you asked, voice low. “How we keep ending up in these kinds of situations?”

“What, like accidentally stranded alone in a cabin with romantic lighting and one mattress?”

You nudged him, laughing. “Exactly.”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch. “But I don’t mind.”

You turned to look at him. His profile was soft in the firelight - long lashes, the slight curve of his nose, the way his lips parted slightly like he was about to say more. But he didn’t.

So you did. “I’m glad it’s you too, you know.”

He turned his head toward you, his gaze meeting yours. The space between you shrank - not in distance, but in something else. Familiarity. Understanding. Maybe something unspoken that had been hovering for a while now.

His voice was gentle, barely above the crackle of the fire. “You think it’s the universe trying to tell us something?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What, like fate?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just… we’ve been dancing around this for a while, haven’t we?”

Your heart jumped. He didn’t sound flirtatious now. Just honest. Raw, even.

You swallowed. “Maybe.”

Another beat passed. Then, quietly, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed: “You cold?”

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Good,” he murmured. “Cause if you move even an inch away from me, I might actually freeze to death.”