THE FOREST IS MISTY WITH AN ENVELOPING SNOWFALL, and Blackbone lays sleepy in a sheet of white. The only sounds in the wintery landscape are those of soft flakes kissing the earth and the frigid whispers of cold wind.
The Cabin lays in a circle of white, surrounded by thick pines and a bed of snow. Behind the fogged-up window of the upper story lies two motionless figures. Their bodies are wrapped in a fluffy white duvet and their eyes are shut in sleep.
A pale light highlights across their faces, and Fallon's blonde hair comes to view followed by the entrancing features of Arielle. Their faces, even in sleep reflects a silent message—the sated rest that comes with being fucked thoroughly.
A shadow passes over Arielle's face and a large hand settles over her cheek. It moves to her hair and smooths down the long brown strands. She hums into the touch and the hand immediately withdraws. It moves back to a firm, male body and Aaron curls it into a fist.
He watches both women asleep between the sheets and for the first time, he feels—not alone.
Aaron stares at them for a while, his golden eyes warm from his position by the bedside. Fallon whimpers and he smiles.
Slowly, he gets up and moves to the kitchen with only one thought in mind.
They'll be hungry when they awake.
~. ~. ~.
A steaming cup of coffee, a cinnamon bun, and a plate of scrambled egg an hour later, and Arielle reclines on the soft cushion of the living room sofa.
Fallon sits beside her, her legs curled on the sofa. Both women spot draping wool cardigans no doubt borrowed from Aaron's drawers.
Their eyes' move over each other and they both smile.
"So, you think we'll give it another go?" Fallon asks.
"What?" Arielle replies, looking to Fallon.
Fallon wriggles her eyebrows at her and Arielle smiles.
"It depends on Aaron I guess."
"Mmm, but last night was spectacular," Fallon says, biting down on her lower lip .
"Yeah, it was," Arielle whispers, reliving the memory.
She is just getting to the part where she rides on him when he fills her vision.
"Christ!" Arielle mutters.
Aaron just walks past, unbothered.
He moves towards the door, puts on his boots and reaches for the knob.
"Hey," Arielle calls and he stops.
"What's with the painting?"
Aaron turns around and looks to the piece she refers to—a woman he never met. But who was closer to him than anyone.
"Mother." He utters and walks away.
Fallon stares shocked at the painting. Arielle just gapes at his retreating form.
There is no mistaking the bold resemblance between the Brunette in the painting and Arielle.
Fallon turns to her.
"Is it just me or did he just say the word mother?"
"It isn't just you," Arielle mutters.
Both women fall silent and Arielle just stares at the painting.
The woman could as well be her—minus her golden eyes. But if she's his mother, then....
Arielle springs to the door.
"Aaron!" she calls, "Wait up, we're coming with you."