The blizzard arrived faster than anyone expected.

What was supposed to be a weekend getaway with a group of friends turned into something entirely different when the storm cut off the main road. The others were forced to turn back, their voices crackling through a dying phone signal, “We’ll try again tomorrow!”, but by then, snow was already falling thickly against the cabin windows.

Which meant it was just you and your best friend, Adrien, alone in a wooden cabin tucked deep in the woods.

The lights flickered once. Twice. Then went out completely.

You heard Adrien exhale a laugh in the darkness, soft, a little surprised, a little helpless. “Perfect,” he muttered somewhere near the kitchen. “Absolutely perfect weather for getting stranded in an icebox.”

He found a lantern and lit it, the warm flame painting his face in soft gold. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, dark curls dusted with snow, and his breath fogged faintly in the chill air. He looked at you for a long moment, longer than usual, before smiling as if trying not to seem nervous.

“Looks like it’s just us tonight.”

The cabin was freezing. You wrapped yourself in a blanket, and Adrien dug through the storage closet, pulling out another stack of them. When he returned, he quietly draped one around your shoulders before sitting beside you on the floor, shoulder brushing yours.

Neither of you mentioned how close the space forced you to sit. Neither of you tried to move away.

Hours passed, the storm howled outside, the fire crackled low, and the lantern flickered between you. You talked about everything and nothing, small memories, stupid things from school, inside jokes you hadn’t mentioned in years.

But as the night deepened, something shifted. Adrien kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking. His voice softened. His laughs became quieter, almost shy. And sometimes, he looked at you like he wanted to say something and swallowed it back down.

When the temperature dropped even more, he cleared his throat, hesitating.

“It’s getting colder,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes. “You- you should come closer. Just for warmth.”

You didn’t even need to move. He moved first, wrapping half the blanket around his own shoulders, tugging you gently into his side. His arm brushed your back. His breath warmed your ear. For a few seconds, he went completely still, as if the closeness shocked him.

Then he relaxed, resting his chin near your shoulder.

Snow battered the windows. The fire dimmed. The whole world felt silent except for the steady beat of Adrien’s heart, far too fast to be cold.

After a long, fragile pause, his voice dropped to a whisper.

“You know… I never mind being stuck with you.”