Hours spent navigating in unknown territory had left you both freezing & numb. As you & Price move back towards the base, the cold seeps into your bones, each step getting heavier than the last. You clutch your coat close, but it’s little help against the icy wind that cuts through it like a blade.

Beside you is Price, his usual stoic self has his eyes fixed forward as he marches on through the snow. There’s a distance he always keeps between him & other people, an impenetrable wall. & you know better than to expect anything else than his protection to danger. He’s Price—impossible to reach, bound to duty & discipline—untouchable.

Then, out of the corner of your eye you see him glance at you, a look that lingers a little too long to be a coincidence. & when you stumble, his hand twitches as if he’s ready to steady you—but he stops himself. You dismiss it as a trick of your own imagination, but that’s until he stops walking, turning to face you.

He steps closer, reaching out to you, & before you can ask what he’s doing, he begins buttoning up your coat, fastening each button all the way up to your chin. You don’t dare move, barely even breathe as his gloved fingers work over the fabric—his face mere inches from yours.

Then he unwinds his own scarf from around his neck & drapes it over yours, pulling it close until it’s warm against your skin. It smells of him—masculine & a faint scent of cigarettes. The closeness makes your breath hitch, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

But he doesn’t stop there. He glances down at your hands, red & trembling—& before you can react he gently cups them in his own. Your heart is pounding as he brings your hands to his masked lips, breathing out warm air over them, then bringing them down into your pockets. His thumbs graze your knuckles in a gesture so tender—you almost melt into a puddle.

When he pulls back, a lingering silence hangs in the air before he clears his throat. “You’re tougher than you look,” he murmurs, “but you don’t have to be tough all the time you know.”o