Chapter 124: Asher
The road curves through quiet hills, all muted whites and grays, the kind of told that steals sound from the world. My tires crunch dat gravel as we climb the slight slope toward the village. The sky’s him, pale silver. The aur’s thick with winter.
Beside me, Penny hogs het coat tighter and watches the trees bur past. Her heath logs the passenger notice. She notices.
“Can I ask you something?” she says, soft but clean
Inod, still forward. “Sure.”
She shifts in her seat. “How are you really
I tit my head a little. “Right now
“No, like… being here. Thit werk Mound all these people.
alde minden glance at her when I think
element.” Her voice is careful, like she doesn’t want to offend mr.
I think about lying. About saying “fine” and brushing it off like I usually do. But then she adds, “Would you rather be home
I want to say I’d rather be wherever she is.
But that’s a line you can’t say when she’s someone else’s girl–even if that guy is currently riding in a different car with his frends, probably an around another gal, if what Max said is anything to go by.
So I shrug. “I go where I needed. It’s how it’s always been”
She frowns. “That’s not what I asked.”
Her tone makes me glance over. Her expression is tight. Disappointed, maybe. Not in me, but in the answer.
“What’d you mean, then?”
“I didn’t ask if you go where you’re needed. I asked if you’re happy to be here,”
My hands tighten on the wheel. Truth is, I don’t know what makes me happy. Haven’t in a long time. The last four years of my life have been movement. Orders. Survival. I haven’t asked myself what I want since I was nineteen. I’m not sure I remember how.
But I glance at her again–white sweater, cheeks a little pink from the heater, her legs folded up on the seat like she’s trying to shrink beself smaller than she already is–and the words are out before I can catch them.
“I’m happy to be here. With you.”
She turns to me so fast I can feel the air shift,
Her mouth opens like she wants to say something, but then she blinks down, flustered, and tucks her hair behind her ear. Her blush deepens. She looks like the side of a rose.
I clear my throat. “I mean… the quiet. The snow. That part’s not so bad.”
She doesn’t call me out on it. Doesn’t press. Just is there smiling like she knows more than she lets on.
The town appears just over the next hill, tucked between tree–lined roads and nestled under soft snow. Dozens of small cabins and shops make up the market square, smoke curling from chimneys, pe parlands scrapped around porch Strings of lights crisscross overhead still feint under the daylight, but glowing just enough to make the whole place look like it was pulled from a snow globe.
I park at the edge of the lot behind a row of SUVS Ale mes pull in behind our group. I spot Tyler jumping out of someone else’s car, already walking ahead with Zoe and Jonathan, laughing about something
I catch the way Pening sees it too–how her face falters just slightly
Chapter 124: Asher
I step around the ear to her side. “Come on.” I say, velce low. “What do you want to do first-
She hesitates. Her anal spark is dimmer. “I’m not sure
Hell no.
She wanted this. She was excited. I’m not letting anyone tuin it for her.
“It looks like there’s a snowman building contest over there,” I say, “I in sue winner gets fere pastries and hot clete, or something like that. And if your deranged imagination doesn’t win, I’ll be forced to demand a rematch.”
That gets her. She grins. Her entire face lights up, like someone struck a match behind her eyes.
“You think I have a deranged imagination?”
“I know you do
She laughs, and the sound slices straight through my chest.
We walk down the lane, shoulders almost brushing. The village is alive–kids in scarves dart between booths, couples hold hands while sipping cider, beth chime on every wooden door as people shuffle in and out.
Booths line both sides of the cobbled street, each one hand–painted with signs in looping script. There’s fresh–baked bread steaming in the cold air. Gamed wooden animals stacked like little armies, Scarves that look like they were spun from cloud and silver thread.
Snow falls again–light, glittery. Penny lifts her hand to catch a flake on her palm and grins.
She looks up, eyes
es playful. “You gonna deck en elf if he bumps into you?”
“Only if he insults my snowman.
She salates dramatically, and I can’t help it–my mouth lifts into a full smile. One of the real ones. Nut the tight ones I give strangers. Not the blank mes wear when Tyler says something obnoxious. This is a smile just for her.
rea near the lake, snow piled high. Kids and adults are already shaping snowhalls and stacking them up. There’s music The
contest is ahead–a roped off area playing from a spraker somewhere, old jazzy Christmas tunes that make everything feel softer somehow,
Penny surveys the competition.
“Okay,” she says, already rolling
her sleeves. “If we’re doing this, we’re going all in. No basic Frosty. No sad carrot nose. This is war.”
I cross my armu. “What kind of snowman are we talking?”
“Tas thinking–vil wizard. Top hat Magic staff. Maybe a tiny pet owl made of snow. Think you can handle that?”
“You had me at war.
She laughs again and runs to the snowbank.
And I fellow, Because wherever she goes, that’s where I want to be.
