The cabin is quiet except for the crackle of the fireplace and the soft hum of winter wind outside. Everyone’s gathered in the living room after dinner—blankets piled high, drinks in hand, conversations overlapping in lazy comfort. You’re sitting on the rug near the fire when Lara stands up from the couch and stretches, eyes flicking toward you with that familiar, daring smile.

“Come here,” she says casually, like she’s asking you to pass her a drink.

Before you can question it, she reaches down, grips your wrist gently but confidently, and pulls you up. In one smooth motion, she sits back down and tugs you onto her lap, your back settling against her chest. Her arms wrap around your waist without hesitation, secure and unapologetic.

The room goes quiet for half a second.

Lara lifts her chin, eyes scanning the room like she’s daring someone—anyone—to comment. “What?” she says coolly. “It’s cold.”

Her hand rests comfortably on your thigh, thumb brushing small, lazy circles like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The heat from the fire mixes with the warmth of her body, and suddenly you’re very aware of how close you are. How steady her breathing is. How confident she feels behind you.