The car's tires crunched over the snow as Wolfe steered up the winding mountain road. Outside, the world was a swirl of white—the trees laden with heavy snow, the sky a pale gray that seemed to blend into the horizon. Bunny sat quietly in the passenger seat, her body wrapped in layers, trying to keep warm as the cold slowly crept into the car despite the heater.
"This cold is brutal," Bunny muttered, glancing out the window. "I don't know how you're staying so calm."
Wolfe's eyes flickered to her, a small smile playing at his lips. "It's different, sure. But I'm prepared for it."
Bunny shook her head, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. "I'm not so sure I am."
The drive had been beautiful, no doubt, but the chill was something Bunny wasn't used to. Growing up in a tropical climate, snow had always seemed like a distant concept—something from movies or postcards. Now, faced with the biting cold firsthand, she was struggling to find the magic in it. Wolfe, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, navigating the snow-covered road with his usual calm demeanour.
They rounded a bend, and the cabin came into view—a small, wooden retreat nestled in a clearing, surrounded by tall pines. It looked cozy from the outside, with smoke already curling from the chimney, but the sight of the snowdrifts piled high around it only made Bunny shiver harder.
"Welcome to our weekend getaway," Wolfe said, parking the car and turning to her with an encouraging look. "Let's get inside and warm up."
The cabin door creaked as they stepped inside, the warmth from the fireplace greeting them like a hug. Bunny immediately shed her coat and gloves, rubbing her hands together to coax warmth back into her fingers. Wolfe was already moving around the cabin, checking the firewood, making sure the place was stocked with supplies.
Bunny wandered to the window, looking out at the endless stretch of white. It was beautiful, in a harsh kind of way, but the cold was already creeping into her bones again. She sighed, wrapping a blanket around herself as she plopped down onto the couch.
"Are you doing okay over there?" Wolfe asked, glancing over as he stoked the fire.
"I'll live," Bunny muttered, her voice half-buried under the blanket. "Just… trying to get used to it."
Wolfe chuckled softly. "You'll warm up soon enough. Just give it time."
Bunny watched him move around the room with ease, his body seemingly unaffected by the cold. He had always been like this—calm, composed, never letting anything get to him. She admired that about him, but right now, she wished she had some of that calm herself. Instead, she felt her body tensing up, her muscles stiffening with every gust of wind that rattled the windows.
By the time the sun began to set, Bunny was bundled in every layer she had brought, sitting as close to the fire as she could without burning herself. The cabin was warm enough, but outside, the wind howled, and the temperature had dropped even further. Wolfe, ever the pragmatic one, had prepared a simple dinner, setting it on the table near the fire so they could stay close to the warmth.
Bunny took a sip of the hot soup, her hands trembling slightly from the cold that still lingered in her fingertips. "I didn't think it would be this intense," she admitted, her voice low. "I thought I'd be able to handle it, but it's so much colder than I expected."
Wolfe looked at her thoughtfully. "You're doing fine, Bunny. It's not easy to adjust to something like this, but you're holding up."
She wanted to believe him, but the relentless cold was wearing her down. It wasn't just the physical discomfort—it was the way it made everything feel harder. Her movements felt sluggish, her thoughts slower, as if the cold had seeped into her mind along with her body.
"I don't know how you're so calm," she said, looking at Wolfe. "You don't seem bothered at all."
Wolfe shrugged, his expression as steady as ever. "I've dealt with harsh conditions before. It's just about adjusting."
Bunny gave him a half-hearted smile, appreciating his effort to reassure her, but part of her wished she could feel that same sense of ease. Instead, all she felt was the cold—relentless and unyielding.
That night, Bunny woke to the sound of wind howling outside. She blinked in the darkness, her breath visible in the cold air of the room. The fire had burned down to embers, and the temperature inside the cabin had dropped considerably. Shivering, she pulled the blankets tighter around herself, but the cold seemed to cling to her no matter what.
She glanced over at Wolfe, who was still fast asleep, seemingly unaffected by the drop in temperature. Bunny sat up, rubbing her arms in an attempt to generate some warmth, but it was no use. The cold had seeped into the cabin, and it wasn't leaving anytime soon.
She got up quietly, tiptoeing to the window. When she pulled back the curtain, her heart sank. The snow had piled up overnight, burying the cabin in a thick blanket of white. They were snowed in.
Wolfe stirred, sensing her movement. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice groggy.
Bunny turned to him, her breath coming out in small puffs of mist. "We're snowed in. The storm got worse."
Wolfe sat up, assessing the situation with a calm nod. "I'll get the fire going again. We'll be fine."
Bunny watched as he moved through the cabin, gathering firewood and coaxing the embers back to life. His steady presence was reassuring, but the cold still gnawed at her, making her feel small and fragile in a way she hadn't expected.
The next day, the storm had calmed, but the snowdrifts outside were nearly waist-deep. Wolfe had managed to clear a small path to the door, but beyond that, the landscape was a sea of white. Bunny bundled up in her heaviest layers, still feeling the cold despite the layers of wool and fleece.
As they stood outside, Wolfe's sharp eyes spotted movement in the distance. A group of travellers—three figures struggling through the deep snow—was making their way toward the cabin. They were clearly in trouble, their movements slow and laboured as they pushed through the drifts.
"Looks like they need help," Wolfe said, already moving toward them.
Bunny hesitated, the cold biting at her face and fingers. The thought of venturing out into the deep snow made her want to retreat to the warmth of the cabin, but she couldn't let Wolfe go alone. With a deep breath, she followed him, her feet sinking into the snow with each step.
The travellers—an older couple and their adult son—were relieved when Wolfe and Bunny reached them. Their car had gotten stuck further down the road, and they had been trying to find shelter before the storm got worse.
Wolfe immediately took charge, helping them make their way to the cabin. Bunny, still shivering from the cold, did her best to assist, though her limbs felt heavy and clumsy in the freezing air. Despite her discomfort, she couldn't help but admire Wolfe's calm efficiency as he guided the family back to safety.
Once inside the cabin, Bunny helped the travellers warm up by the fire, handing them hot tea and extra blankets. The cold still clung to her, but she pushed through it, determined to keep going.
Wolfe, as usual, handled everything with quiet confidence, his calm presence a steadying force even as the cold pressed in from every direction.
The fire crackled softly, its warmth filling the cabin as the evening settled into a calm stillness. The storm outside had finally quieted, leaving behind a thick blanket of snow that covered the world in a peaceful silence. Wolfe and Bunny sat on the couch, the light of the fire flickering across their faces as they shared the space, the tension from the day slowly fading away.
Wolfe glanced at Bunny, his dark eyes catching the glow of the fire. "You handled today well," he said, his voice low but full of quiet praise. "The cold's been relentless, but you didn't let it stop you."
Bunny exhaled, leaning back against the couch as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "I'm still freezing," she admitted with a tired laugh. "But I'm proud I made it through."
Wolfe's hand found hers, his fingers warm against her cool skin. "I never doubted that you would. You're stronger than you realise, Bunny."
She turned to look at him, feeling the weight of his words sink in. Wolfe didn't give out compliments lightly, and when he did, they always felt like more than just words. He had this way of seeing her—really seeing her—and in that moment, Bunny felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
She smiled, her voice soft as she replied, "It helps knowing you're here."
Wolfe shifted closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he pulled her gently into him. "You know I'd never let you go through this alone," he said, his breath warm against her temple.
They sat in silence for a while, the fire casting shadows on the walls, the soft crackle of wood burning providing the only sound in the room. Bunny felt the warmth of Wolfe's body next to hers, the strength of his presence grounding her in a way the fire couldn't. Despite the cold, despite the challenges of the day, she felt safe.
After a long pause, Bunny rested her head on Wolfe's shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her. "I don't know how you stay so calm," she said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of wonder. "Even when things get tough, you never seem rattled."
Wolfe was quiet for a moment before responding, his tone reflective. "It's not about not feeling the pressure. It's about trusting that we can handle it—together."
Bunny smiled at his words, her heart swelling. She had always admired Wolfe's calm, his ability to remain steady in any situation, but it wasn't until this trip that she realised just how much his steadiness had become a part of her own strength.
Wolfe's hand slid from her shoulder to gently cradle her chin, turning her face toward him. His touch was light, but his gaze was steady, as if searching her eyes for something deeper.
"I'm proud of you, Bunny," he said softly, his voice a low murmur. "Today was hard, but you didn't give up. You adapted."
Bunny's breath hitched slightly at the closeness, the warmth of his words sinking in. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he valued not just her perseverance, but the way she trusted him throughout it all.
"I couldn't have done it without you," she replied, her voice soft.
Wolfe leaned in, his lips brushing gently against hers in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and full of the quiet intensity that always seemed to linger between them. It wasn't hurried or passionate—it was an acknowledgment, a shared understanding of the day's trials and their mutual respect for each other's strength.
When they finally pulled back, Bunny felt a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the fire. Wolfe's hand lingered on her cheek for a moment longer before he settled back against the couch, pulling her with him.
They moved closer, their bodies naturally finding each other's warmth as the fire crackled softly. Wolfe's lips brushed against Bunny's, the kiss deepening with the heat of the moment. For a few stolen minutes, they lost themselves in each other, the cold outside forgotten. Afterward, they lay down by the fire, Bunny resting her head on Wolfe's chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat calmed her as her eyelids grew heavy. Wolfe watched her drift off to sleep, his hand resting gently on her back, content in the quiet peace of the moment.