The snow fell thick against the windows of the lodge, a soft, persistent blanket that muffled the world outside. You trudged back inside, dragging the last bundle of firewood behind you, the crisp air clinging to your cheeks. The warmth of the fireplace hit you instantly, and you dropped the wood next to the others stacked neatly by the hearth.

Josh and Chris were sprawled out on the couch, their laughter long since replaced by snores, half-empty glasses tipped over on the coffee table. A quiet, lazy hum of the lodge filled the room—the only movement the occasional crackle from the fire and the wind pressing against the roof.

You noticed that the others were nowhere in sight. Upstairs, you could hear faint giggles and chatter, probably Beth and whoever else were keeping themselves entertained. You assumed Hannah and Beth had gone to their own rooms hours ago, exhausted from the day’s activities. A wave of sleepiness hit you, heavier than you expected, and you decided it was time to head to your guest room.

You stepped toward the staircase, feeling the cozy warmth fading behind you, when a voice stopped you mid-step.

“Hey…”

It was soft, almost a whisper, carried on the quiet hum of the lodge. You froze. The voice was familiar, impossibly familiar. Hannah.

You scanned the hallway, heart kicking slightly faster. There was no one there. “Must’ve misheard,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head. After all, Hannah had probably gone to bed hours ago.

You continued upstairs, each step creaking slightly under your weight. When you reached the main hall, you slowed again, senses on edge for some reason you couldn’t name. The hall was empty, silent, and the only light came from the faint glow spilling from the living room below.

And then you heard it again, closer this time, a whisper so near it made the hair on your arms stand up:

“{{user}}…”

Your breath caught. This time, you didn’t move immediately. Your instincts were screaming—this was Hannah. But where was she?

Then she stepped out from the shadows near the railing, her eyes wide, a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips. She looked… vulnerable. And something about the way she stared at you, like you were the only person in the world, made your chest tighten.

“H-Hannah?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

She stepped closer, taking a single, careful step toward you. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her voice low, trembling slightly. “I wanted to see you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “But… I thought you were with Beth?”

“I left… I just… I needed to see you,” she said, voice dropping even lower, a hint of desperation creeping in. “I’ve… I’ve always needed to see you.”

Something in the intensity of her gaze made your heart pound. She wasn’t joking. Not in the slightest. Her obsession—her feelings—were raw, exposed, undeniable. And suddenly, the lodge, the snow, even the warmth of the fire downstairs felt distant. It was just the two of you.

You took a cautious step forward. “Hannah… we’ve been friends forever. I didn’t know…”

“I know,” she interrupted softly, almost urgently. “You didn’t know. But I’ve always felt… more. Since high school. Since… forever.” Her eyes glistened in the dim light, the intensity of her confession both frightening and thrilling.