10. Reid
10
REID
I trudge up the mountain as quickly as I can, but it's slow going. My boots sink deep into the snow with each labored step, and despite wrapping up, the wind's icy fingers still manage to claw at any exposed skin. I squint against the swirling flakes, my eyes watering from the cold. The terrain is treacherous, a minefield of hidden rocks and sudden drops, but I navigate it with the skill born of years in the military.
Despite what I'm up against, I can't stop thinking about Willow and our kiss. It was a moment of pure impulse, born of fear and relief and something else I'm almost afraid to name. I'm surprised by the intensity of my feelings, the way her lips on mine seemed to ignite a fire in my veins. It's unprofessional, I know. I'm here to rescue her, not to start a romance. But I can't deny the anticipation I feel at the thought of getting back to her.
I feel more alive than I have in years like I've been jolted awake from a long, numb slumber. It reminds me of the adrenaline rush of my military days, that heady mix of fear and exhilaration. But this is different somehow, more personal. In just one night, Willow managed to breach the walls I'd so carefully constructed, to touch a part of me I thought was long buried.
As I climb, I grapple with my sense of duty, trying to reconcile my professional responsibilities with my growing feelings. I'm here to ensure Willow's safety, to bring her back alive and well. I can't let my personal desires cloud my judgment or compromise the mission. But even as I remind myself of this, I can't stop thinking about her, about the way she makes me feel.
Before I have a chance to contemplate what I'm going to do, the radio crackles to life in my hand, the static giving way to Viggo's voice. I feel a rush of relief, my focus snapping back to the task before me.
"Viggo, do you copy? This is Reid," I say, my words clipped and urgent.
"Reid! Thank God. What's your situation?" Viggo's reply is immediate, his tone a mix of concern and relief.
"I've found her. We're sheltered about two miles southeast of Blackpeak Ridge. She's got a broken leg, but she's stable." I relay the information quickly, my eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of a break in the weather.
"Good work. The storm's clearing. We're prepping a helicopter for extraction." Viggo's words are like music to my ears. Help is on the way.
"Copy that. How soon can we expect you?" I ask, already calculating how long it will take me to get back to Willow.
"If the weather holds, within the next few hours. Can you mark your position?"
"Affirmative. I'll use emergency flares to signal our location."
"Perfect. Hang tight and keep her stable. We're coming." Viggo's final words are a promise, a lifeline in this frozen wilderness.
As the radio falls silent, I'm awash with emotions. Relief at the imminent rescue, anxiety about Willow's condition, and a twinge of regret that our time alone is coming to an end. It's a confusing mix, one I don't have time to untangle now.
I start my descent back to Willow, moving as quickly as the dangerous terrain allows. Every step is urgent, driven by a professional need to ensure her safety and a personal desire to be near her again.
As I near the shelter, my heart races with anticipation and adrenaline. I'm eager to see Willow again, but I'm also acutely aware of the impending rescue operation. Every minute counts now.
I pause for a moment, catching my breath in the icy air. The decision I've been grappling with crystallizes in my mind. Once we're safe and this crisis is over, I want to explore these feelings with Willow. I'm tired of letting my past dictate my future, of keeping everyone at arm's length. She's awakened something in me, a desire for connection I thought I'd long buried.
I know it won't be easy. We're both carrying baggage, both scarred by our pasts. But I'm willing to try, to take a chance on something real. Life's too short to let opportunities pass by, to let fear rule your choices. I learned that the hard way in the military.
With renewed determination, I cover the last stretch to the shelter. I can see it now, a small mound of snow against the vast white expanse. My pulse quickens at the thought of Willow inside, waiting for me.
As I approach, I call out to her, my voice muffled by the wind. "Willow? It's Reid. I'm coming in."
I hear a faint reply, and then I'm ducking into the shelter, the sudden absence of wind a shock to my system. And there she is, huddled in the corner, her face pale but her eyes bright with relief.
For a moment, we simply stare at each other, the memory of our kiss hanging in the air between us. Then I'm moving towards her, my hands reaching out to check her splint and feel the warmth of her skin.
I’ve never wanted to be with anyone more.