30. Esperr #2
I exhale slowly through my nose and stare at the wall across from me and wait for the last of the nightmare to move through my body. Zyran doesn’t fill the silence; he doesn’t ask me what happened, he just keeps his hand on my back, letting me come back in my own time.
When I finally feel like myself again, he shifts beside me, and I feel his gaze move over me before he’s sitting up.
“Come on,” he suddenly says.
I turn my head, frowning. “What?”
But he’s already moving, pushing the blanket off him, and standing up. He reaches down at the end of the bed, picking his shirt up and pulling it over his head before reaching for his jeans.
“Get dressed, something warm.”
I watch him for a second longer, tucking the blanket over my chest. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know.”
Again, I’m the one left frowning in confusion. “There’s more than just a foot of snow outside, Zyran.”
He glances at me over his shoulder and zips his pants up, smiling. “I know, now get dressed, Esperr.”
I sit there for another second just looking at him, at the absolute certainty he has written all over his face, like I didn’t just have a nightmare or the fact that it’s two in the morning.
Then I’m dragging myself up, my legs still heavy with the post-emotional weight that sits in the body long after the brain has caught up.
I stand at the edge of the bed for a moment just getting my bearings, and then I’m moving to my dresser and grabbing undergarments before pulling out a pair of leggings and then my thermal set from the hook behind the door.
Another layer on top of that, and then I’m padding my way to the closet for my coat and scarf and gloves that I don’t think I’ve ever touched.
Zyran’s waiting by the door when I come out of the bedroom. “Ready?”
I pull the left glove on and look up at him. “You’re insane, just so we’re aware.”
“Probably.”
He opens the front door, and we step out, side by side, we move down the hall until we reach the stairwell. The door creaks when he pushes it open, and we start down the three flights of stairs. And then the back door is there, and Zyran is shoving it open.
The moment I step outside, my breath turns into white fog—the sky is completely clear. It’s scattered with more stars than I’ve ever seen, while the snow sits heavy and undisturbed over everything, catching the starlight.
The cold bites at my cheeks immediately, but I still find myself tilting my head back and just looking up for a second, at all the open dark sky, and something in my chest loosens in a way I wasn’t expecting.
Three days inside, and I didn’t realize how much I needed this, the outside, the cold and quiet—the feeling of the world being bigger than four walls.
I find myself smiling when I hear Zyran moving behind me a second before the snow hits the back of my shoulder. Turning around slowly, I find him standing there, hands loose at his sides, expression completely neutral.
“Oh no, you didn’t,” I hiss, but even I can hear the amusement in my voice.
Zyran doesn’t say anything, and I look down at the snow, and then back up at him. He still doesn’t say anything, just that almost smile sitting at the corner of his mouth that he’s not quite letting show yet.
I bend down and pack the snow together with both hands, ignoring the cold that’s biting through my gloves. Straightening up, I look at him, seeing that he hasn’t moved yet, and then I’m throwing it at him.
Zyran easily and cleanly sidesteps it. The sound I make is pure indignation, but he’s already crouching down before I can say anything and is moving with that same infuriating efficiency he always has. The next one catches me square in the stomach.
“Dude, that’s not fair!” I nearly screech.
“You started it.”
My mouth drops open. “No! You did; you started it first.”
He smiles, raising a brow. “Prove it.”
My eyes narrow, and I bend down again, grabbing another handful and throwing it before I’ve even fully packed it—which means it dissolves midair into a shower of snow that gets absolutely everywhere, mostly on me.
I hear him laugh, and it’s so refreshing to hear that for a second I stop.
Watching him stand there in the snow at two in the morning, breath rising in the cold air and he’s laughing and I think about what he told me—that he used to be the one who made every room feel full, that he missed who he was before.
This is the piece of that person he used to be.
I bend down and pack another snowball very deliberately.
He raises a brow, daring me, and so I do; I throw it with everything I’ve got. And Zyran being Zyran, he catches it before it has a chance to hit him. Just simply reaches out and snatches it in the air like it was nothing.
I stand there, staring at him with my mouth open for a full thirty seconds, before my eyes narrow. “That’s not possible,” I mutter.
“Well…”
He squeezes the thing in his hand, letting the snow melt around his fingers, and I point at him accusingly.
“That’s cheating.”
He shrugs and smirks. “I think it’s just reflexes.”
I make a sound and go for another handful, but he’s already moving, circling wide, and I track him, throwing snowball after snowball at him. Each time I miss, and I don’t understand how someone that large can move that fast.
Spinning around, I pull my hand back, ready to throw the thing at him when I’m suddenly hit in the side of the head with a perfectly packed snowball and end up stumbling sideways into a pile of snow that’s up to my knee.
“Zyran—” I yell.
It’s useless, and I go down.
And it’s not graceful or cute—no, it’s fully and completely face-first into the snow with my arms out and everything. For a second I just lie there in the cold dark with snow seeping into my clothes and into my collar.
I hear him crunch in the snow beside me. “You okay?”
Smiling, I roll over onto my back and look up at him standing over me.
“I let you win,” I mutter.
“Sure you did.” He reaches down for my hand.
I take it without hesitation, and he pulls me up out of the drift in one easy motion. At the last possible second an idea springs to my mind, and I grab the front of his jacket with both hands, yanking him backwards.
We both fall back into the snow, and he somehow tucks himself to go down beside me with a sound that is deeply satisfying.
For a second we’re both just lying there in the churned-up snow, staring up at the sky and the stars.
Then I start laughing, full-on belly giggles. Zyran turns his head at me, a smile plastered to his face and a small chuckle leaving his mouth. It’s low and quiet, but just what we needed.
Blowing out a breath, it takes a few for my heart to finally calm down. Only then does my hand search out his, finding it pretty quickly. He laces our fingers together and squeezes them.
“Thank you,” I whisper, quiet enough that it almost gets lost.
He peers over at me, raising a brow.
“For this,” I sigh and gesture at nothing in particular with my other hand. “For knowing I needed this.”
“You were shaking. Just figured doing something fun would get you to stop.”
I look at him lying there beside me, and I don’t bother saying anything back because there isn’t anything worth saying.
Zyran turns his head and looks at me, and then he shifts, propping himself up slightly, and kisses me.
One hand comes up to cup the side of my face with snow still on his glove, and the cold bleeds through my cheek.
But I don’t care, not at all. I kiss him back, and the cold slowly doesn’t feel like cold anymore, and the nightmare that woke me up feels like nothing but a far distance away.
When he pulls back, he stays close, his forehead just hovering over mine. “Come on,” he whispers, before pressing another peck to my lips. “Let’s get you inside; you’re covered in snow.”
“I know.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and he shoves himself up, pulling me with him. He holds my hand, leading me back to my apartment building, and I let him.