Snow still clung to your hair and Yelena’s coat when you finally made it back to the safehouse. Your hands were so numb you could barely pull your boots off, and Yelena’s nose was bright red from the cold.

“Bozhe moi,” she muttered, shaking out her braids. “If I ever agree to a mission in a blizzard again, please hit me.”

You laughed weakly. “Only if you hit me back.”

She smirked, but her shoulders were trembling, teeth almost clicking. You stepped closer, brushing snow from her sleeve.

“Bath?” you offered.

Her eyes softened instantly. “Da. Together?”

“Yeah. Together.”

The bathroom filled with steam while the storm rattled the windows. You slipped into the water first, hissing as warmth replaced numbness. Yelena followed, settling behind you, her legs bracketing yours as she melted into the tub with a low groan.

“Detka…” she sighed, head resting lightly against the back of yours. “This feels like heaven.”

The water wrapped around you like a blanket, and you leaned into her chest. Her arms came around your middle, gentle and protective. Her palms were warm now as they rested flat against your stomach.

“Your hair is still cold,” she murmured near your ear, fingers threading slowly through it. “Come here.”

She pulled you closer, chin settling on your shoulder. Your breaths synced without trying. Outside, snow hammered the roof. Inside, everything was quiet—just water, steam, and her steady breathing against your back.

“You scared me,” she said eventually, voice soft. “Back in that alley. When you slipped on the ice.”

“I’m fine, Lena.”

“I know,” she whispered, holding you tighter. “But seeing you fall like that… just don’t do that again.”

You smiled. “I’ll try not to die on black ice. Promise.”

She nudged your cheek with her nose. “Good.”

Another quiet moment passed, her arms warm around you, the storm distant.

“I like this,” she murmured. “Coming back to you. Warming up with you. After missions. After everything.” Her voice dropped. “You make everything less cold, detka.”

Her lips brushed your neck—soft, barely there, more affection than heat. A quiet confession hidden inside a touch.

You reached back, finding her hand under the water. She intertwined her fingers with yours right away, resting her forehead against your shoulder.

“Stay here with me,” she whispered into your skin.

You squeezed her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The world outside stayed frozen. But in her arms, everything finally felt warm.