Embers of Us

The night had unfurled its quiet cloak over the cabin, hours slipping away until the fire dwindled to a mere whisper of embers, casting a faint, golden glimmer across the bedrolls arranged in their haphazard circle on the rug. Tessa slept soundly, her snores a low, uneven rumble from her corner. Jaden’s mumbles drifted into the stillness, soft and nonsensical. Lila’s pencil lay abandoned beside her curled fingers, her sketchpad propped against her bedroll like a silent sentinel. Shadows draped the room in a gentle hush, the sort that ought to have lulled me into dreams alongside them, but sleep eluded me, leaving me awake in the tender dark. My pajamas enveloped me in a thick, comforting shield against the chill, sleeves bunched at my wrists as I lay on our shared bedroll, warm against my skin, yet my mind stirred, calm and restless all at once.

Eli lay beside me, his presence inescapable, his arm resting loosely over my waist where it had settled hours before. His sleeve brushed softly against my side, his chest a steady wall of warmth against my back, his breath a slow rhythm feathering across my neck. He was close, perhaps too close, yet a comfort seeped into me, thawing a coldness I hadn’t noticed before. I let myself bask in that warmth, feeling it spread like the glow of a candle on a winter’s night. Once again, memories of schoolyard days drifted in—him chasing me across the swings, gray eyes bright with laughter, a quiet anchor amid my storms. Now his breath brushed my skin, stirring a question I couldn’t shake.

My fingers rose slowly, tracing the curve of my lips, still warm with the echo of that kiss—fierce, unbidden, a dare that lingered deep within me. I’d kissed others before—Josh by the tracks, a clumsy stumble; Tim at the lake, all noise and no trace—but _this _burned differently, soft and lasting. What if it wasn’t just Tessa’s dare? What if we were something more, beyond childhood games—a quiet laugh shared in the dark, his warmth a choice? Yet, intimacy chilled me, always had. My father’s sharp voice echoed in my memory, barking excuses while my mother’s silence shattered—his affairs unraveling her, leaving me at twelve to vow I’d stay whole, my terms, my time. Here was Eli, his heat pressing against me—a pull I didn’t want, not yet—and still, it felt so natural.

I glanced toward Tessa’s silhouette, faint in the ember glow, snoring beside Lila—my friend since muddy schoolyard days, her laugh a constant shove. She’d always seen through me—prodding when I sulked, dragging me to climb trees after Dad’s storms, her sharp eyes catching what I hid. Did she spot this spark when she paired us, dared that kiss—nudging me toward a warmth she knew I’d otherwise dodge? The stillness of the cabin held its breath as I lay there, my thoughts softening into a quiet resolve to face this tangle when morning broke.

I nudged closer, pressing gently into Eli’s warmth, his arm a steady weight across my waist. Knowing he slept, I let a playful wiggle slip out, a teasing secret in the dark. My butt brushed against him with a faint rustle of fabric, stirring the hush just enough to quicken my pulse. A smile tugged at my lips as I nestled deeper, breathing in the stillness, the air cool against my flushed cheeks, a moment of peace threading through my restless mind. Then my eyes snapped open, wide and startled. A jolt raced through me, sudden and sharp, like thunder cracking the quiet. Against me, his bulge pressed back, firm and growing, a living heat seeping through the layers between us. Panic flared hot in my chest, my breath catching in a ragged gasp swallowed by the silence. I froze, every muscle locking taut, as if the shadows themselves waited for me to unravel this shift.

I shifted, a slight twitch, and felt him again, undeniable now. The swell of him pressed insistently against my lower back, a shadow of movement flickering in the dimness. My pulse roared, a wild thrum pounding in my ears, drowning the stillness. Surely he slept, or so I told myself, but my certainty wavered, trembling like a leaf caught in a storm’s breath. I pressed back once more, slow and deliberate, testing that warmth. My skin prickled where we touched, a tingling heat blooming low in my belly. What was I chasing? His arms tightened, no longer slack but firm with life, his chest swelling closer, a wall of warmth alive with intent, his breath quickening against my neck and stirring the damp strands plastered there with a faint, musky scent—whiskey and salt, sharp in the quiet air. He wasn’t asleep. The realization washed over me, a tide pulling me under where my senses sharpened.

My breath hitched, shallow and unsteady. I should stop this, but a heat unfurled low in my stomach, curling through me until my limbs felt heavy yet buoyant, alive with a shiver I couldn’t name. I fidgeted, needing to feel more. The coarse weave of the bedroll grazed my hips as his lips brushed my ear, soft as a whisper, murmuring my name in a voice low and rough, a secret woven into the dark. My mind swirled, caught in a current I hadn’t meant to stir. His hands slid up, cupping my breasts through the fabric, fingers firm yet gentle, pressing until the weave stretched taut over my skin, my nipples hardening beneath his palms through the damp cotton, sending a ripple of warmth through my chest.

A shaky breath slipped from my lips, the sound swallowed by the hush as my trembling hand drifted down, too far, finding him through his pants, stroking the hardness there, feeling it swell beneath my touch. Too real, yet I couldn’t pull back. The heat of him pulsed against my fingertips, a quiet thudding that echoed the wild beat in my chest. Sweat prickled at my neck, my skin flushing as I grew drunk on him. My fingers, small and daring, slipped inside, wrapping around him bare. His skin shimmered slick with warmth, a faint sheen catching the ember’s glow in the shadowed curve of his arm. His lips pressed to my earlobe, suckling softly, a wet pull that sent a shiver cascading through me. His hand slid inside my shirt, rough fingertips brushing bare skin, tracing the curve of my breast. My body flushed deeper, sweat beading at my temples, caught in a tide of arousal I hadn’t known could rise so fierce.

He moved then, freeing himself with a rustle of fabric. His pants shifted against the bedroll, a soft scrape blending with the stillness as he lowered mine, cool air kissing my bared cheeks in a stark contrast to the heat pooling in my core. He rubbed against me, slick and warm where I was wet. The scent of my own desire mingled with his, musky and sharp, filling the air around us. Panic surged, wild and piercing—not there—I couldn’t bear that breach, not now, not yet. But this, this I wanted. I twisted, pressing my hips back, guiding him away from that threshold, my skin slick with sweat and want. He followed where I led, his breath catching in a surprised hitch as he pushed slow and deep, a fullness stretching me tight and hot, overwhelming and raw.

my teeth sank into his forearm, biting down hard—flannel fibers mashed against my tongue as I bit down to stifle the moan clawing up my throat—sweat stung my lips, salty and fierce. My bite held, a muffled anchor as the fullness deepened. His breath brushed my ear, a warm whisper threading through the hush “You alright?”—soft, urgent—my eyes flicked upward, catching the shadowed curve of his arm—I jerked my head frantically, a sharp, **** nod—yes, yes, yes—chanting silently in my mind, consent spilling out in that wild motion, my neck straining against the damp weight of my hair. His rhythm faltered—sensing he was about to stop, an unexpected panic caught me—teeth still clamped, my head shook frantically, a wild toss against his forearm—no, no, no, don’t—my bite begged as his hand found mine, fingers lacing through in a squeeze, tender and firm. My breath shuddered free, a silent rush against his arm as he pressed deeper, a slow, deliberate swell—my body arched, trembling—the fullness pulsed, a rhythm raw and steady.

Spooning tightened, his arms locking around me, steady and sure. The faint rustling of the bedroll enveloping us blended with the thud of my heart as his forehead pressed my temple, sweat fusing our skin where his damp fringe brushed my brow. His breath curled against my cheek, whiskey mingling with the shallow pants I couldn’t still, warm and ragged in the quiet. My fingers tightening in his, nails marking his smooth knuckles, his grasp pulsing warm against my palm, a tether anchoring me. His heat surged through me, a fire I couldn’t quench, just us, caught in the flickering glow of the embers.

His rhythm deepened, slow thrusts pressing further into me, each movement stirring a tight ache that pulsed through my core like a heartbeat caught in the stillness. My breath caught, sharp and shallow, as my body quivered, slick with sweat where our skin fused in the shadowed heat. His lips grazed my neck, leaving a damp trail across my pulse that glistened faintly in the ember’s glow—a shiver rippled down my spine—his fingers kneaded my breast, the soft flesh yielding beneath his touch until my ribs strained against breaths trembling beneath his bitten arm. A salty sheen lingered on my tongue, sharp and briny from where my teeth had pressed into his skin moments before. Desperation surged through me, a wild current I couldn’t stem. I released my bite, jaw aching as the tension eased, and turned my head with a frantic twist that strained my neck. Damp hair clung to my cheek, sticky and warm in the dimness, brushing against my flushed skin as my eyes sought his. Gray shimmered in the faint light, steady yet searching, locking with mine until a wild bloom flared within my chest. His hand slipped lower, tracing the curve of my hip with a smooth glide—my body arched instinctively, pulling him deeper—the skin where he touched burned with a heat I could scarcely bear.

His rhythm pressed on, deliberate and deep, each thrust stoking the fire within me. His fingertips grazed my clit, soft and wet in the shadowed heat, sending a jolt that sparked through my nerves. My hips bucked against him, my chest heaving with ragged breaths as nails pressed into his smooth knuckles—my thighs quaked, sweat glistening faintly on my skin in the ember’s glow. His gaze softened, a quiet shimmer in the dark, and my body pulsed beneath his circling touch. A silent gasp swelled in my throat as heat crested—my first, real orgasm surged through me, blinding and wild—a marvel I hadn’t known until it claimed me wholly. My body seized, thighs clenching tight as the tide crashed over me, a pulsing wonder trembling through every nerve. His rhythm held steady, his eyes locked on mine as I rode the wave in the golden light of the embers.

My body lingered in the aftermath, quivering with the echo of that crest. His rhythm shifted, growing frantic, hilting deep within me. A jolt tore through my core as his arms crushed me close. His release pulsed, thick and molten, spilling heat I felt with startling clarity. My eyes widened as a second crest crashed over me, wild and unbidden. His embrace tight and unyielding, our breaths shuddering together in the hush—just us.

His arms softened gradually, cradling me against him as the tension ebbed. His lips brushed my ear, warm and trembling, murmuring “You’re everything” in a voice soft as a sigh, as his thumb brushed my cheek. Sweet words sank into me, stirring a glow of satisfaction. My body sank into his, heavy and sated—our breaths synced, slowing in the quiet—my hand squeezed his, fingers still laced tight. Exhaustion tugged at my edges, pulling my lids low. My lips curved into a wide grin across my weary face. Sleep stole in, swift and gentle, as my breath faded into the stillness, his warmth holding me close—content—gone.

Light stabbed through the window, turning the snow outside into a white glare that seared my half-closed eyes. The storm had finally exhausted itself sometime in the night, leaving nothing but deep drifts piled against the cabin’s walls and a silence so crisp it seemed to hum faintly in my ears. The air carried that eerie stillness after chaos, as if the world had exhaled at last—no more howling wind tearing at the roof, no more glass rattling in its frames—just a sharp, clean quiet that settled over everything like a fresh sheet. Sunlight spilled across the floor in jagged streaks, glinting off the frost-etched panes and casting long shadows over the bedrolls still scattered in their haphazard circle on the rug.

I stirred, rolling onto my back with a low grunt as soreness unfurled through my muscles, a deep ache blooming in places I hadn’t known could ache like that.

Oh. Right. That happened.

The weight of the blankets shifted as I moved, the coarse weave scratching faintly against my bare arms, but something was missing—_someone _was missing. My hand drifted out instinctively, fingers pressing into the bedroll’s fabric where Eli had been. Still faintly warm. He’d been here, curled against me, his breath steady and heavy in the dark. But now the space beside me was cooler than it should’ve been, a hollow imprint where his body had pressed into mine, and my chest gave a quick, curious lurch—where’d he go?

I blinked blearily, trying to wake up fully, the cabin’s dim interior coming into focus around me. The air smelled of something faintly scorched, mingled with the stale musk of too many bodies packed into one space for too long—whiskey and smoke lingering from the night before, now undercut by the faint char of overdone oats on the stove. Across the room, Tessa snored like a sawmill, her mouth half-open, red hair splayed wild across her pillow, limbs flung out as if she’d been dropped from a height. Lila stood at the counter by the window, preparing her breakfast, wooden spoon in hand as she poked at a blackened pot on the stove, a dull scrape echoing softly in the quiet. Her sketchpad lay flat on the table nearby, pencil resting atop it—a rare sight, her not sketching, her dark eyes narrowed at the stubborn oats like they’d personally offended her.

I shifted again and winced, a sharp twinge shooting through me as I moved.

Oh. Right. That definitely happened.

Heat curled low in my stomach, sharp and sudden, before sinking into a dull throb between my legs—back there, specifically. My poor bottom felt wrecked, tender in a way I hadn’t expected, each motion a quiet reminder of the night’s intensity. A slow, secret grin tugged at the corner of my mouth despite myself, curling wider as I stretched inside the bedroll, feeling the ache settle deeper into my bones—I already knew I was going to regret every choice I’ve made the second I had to sit down.

I remembered falling asleep pressed up against him, skin sticky where our sweat had dried together, his breath warm against my neck, his arm slung over my waist, our fingers laced loosely together—his weight a steady anchor in the dark. And now he was gone.

A clang rang through the air—metal on metal, sharp and jarring—followed by Jaden’s dumbass laugh, high and bright, cutting through the cabin walls like a blade. My head perked up slightly, ears straining. Voices drifted through, muffled but clear enough to catch a few words here and there, carried on that familiar tone—they were fixing something. My gaze flicked toward the silent heater in the corner, then the unpowered radio slumped near the door. The generator. It’d sputtered out sometime during the storm, leaving us with just the fireplace to keep from freezing. Figures Eli’d be the first one up, elbow-deep in fixing the damn thing before the rest of us even thought to stir.

I could picture it in my head without needing to look—Eli, Mr Fix-it, hunched over outside, dark hair rumpled and sticking up every which way, wiping his face with his sleeve, all practical and focused while muttering under his breath at some stubborn bolt, not saying much beyond a clipped “Hand me that” to Jaden, who was probably pretending to help—more like tossing a wrench in the air like he was aiming for some circus trick, his laugh bouncing off the snowdrifts while Eli just sighed and kept working. I exhaled through my nose, half-smirking—figures—that little scene blooming in my mind, warm and stupidly funny. Another cold draft slipped through a crack in the cabin’s frame, snaking against my neck and raising gooseflesh along my arms. I shivered but stayed warm, a lingering heat beneath my skin that had nothing to do with the blankets—my body still held traces of his heat, the memory of his hands, the solid weight of him pressed against me through those long, dark hours.

And then I caught a shift in the quiet—the rough saw of Tessa’s snoring had faded, leaving an odd stillness in its wake. I turned toward her, and there she was, awake and watching me, propped on one elbow with that freckled grin spreading wide across her face. Not just any grin, that grin—the one that screamed I know exactly what you did, and I will never let you forget it. My stomach dropped, a flush creeping up my neck before I could stop it. I groaned, dragging the blanket over my face, voice muffled through the fabric as I muttered, “Don’t.”

Tessa only smirked wider, stretching out her arms with a yawn that was so smug it made me want to lob something at her freckled face—absolutely insufferable. She looked at me, her green eyes glinting with that familiar mischief, her voice a low, teasing hum as she murmured, “Told you.” I shot her a glare—shut up—but couldn’t shake the stupid warmth curling in my gut, stubborn and fond despite myself. She’s a pain, but she’s mine—always had been, since those muddy schoolyard days when she’d drag me into her chaos and somehow make it feel like home.

I flopped back onto the bedroll with a sigh, eyes fixing on the ceiling’s weathered beams where faint cracks spiderwebbed through the wood, catching the morning light in thin, golden lines. The world outside was blinding—a fresh layer of snow, smooth and untouched, glowing under the sharp morning sun—no storm, no chaos—just a splendid calm that mirrored the quiet settling in my bones. No more noise in my head, either—just a stillness I hadn’t felt in days, maybe longer. I breathed out, slow and steady, letting my body sink into it. Something had shifted in the dark—a quiet thing, tucked away—ours.

No need to poke at it, no need to fight it. I just let it be.