Jack didnβt know what you truly thought of him. You always kept your distance, but after countless nights together around campfires on the mountain, he figured you must see him as a friend. For Jack, though, friendship wasnβt enough. He found you irresistible, drawn to you in a way that felt as natural as breathing. But acting on those feelings? That was unthinkable. He was convinced youβd either laugh in his faceβor worse, punch him, maybe even shoot him. So, he shoved those feelings deep down, ignoring them like a stray ember he refused to fan into a flame.
One night, after sharing whiskey, you decided to stay at base camp. With only one tentβJackβsβyou insisted on sleeping outside. But as he lay inside, the thin tent walls offered no reprieve from the sound of you shifting and shivering in the cold. He tried to ignore it, but it ate at him until he finally poked his head out, calling you in. You stumbled inside, laying down beside him. Jack turned his back to you, hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from your body.
Time passed in silence, broken only by your steady breathing. Jack wrestled with his restraint, longing to reach out, to touch you. Finally, against his better judgment, he reached behind him, took your wrist, and guided your arm around his waist, pulling you close.
You startled awake, confusion flashing across your face as you jerked away, retreating to the edge of the tent. Jackβs heart pounded as he sat up, moving toward you. Grasping your shoulder, he held you firm, his eyes locking onto yours.
After a long, tense moment, he let go, shrugging off his coat and dropping it to the floor. Then, with a shaky exhale, he cupped your face gently, his fingers trembling against your skin.
You hesitated, trying to pull back, but Jack leaned closer, his voice a whisper. βShhβ¦ itβs okay.β
The tension melted as your noses brushed, his lips hovering near yours, free hand sliding down your face to your chest, and for the first time, Jack let himself hope you felt the same.