7. Lissy

Chapter 7

Lissy

I wake up to find Erik already up, his back to me as he stares out the window. The storm has lessened, but the tension in the cabin feels thicker. I rub my eyes, the scent of the pine trees wafting in. “Morning,” I mutter, but he barely acknowledges me, his mind clearly elsewhere. The silence is unnerving, a stark contrast to the easy banter of the past few days.

I can't shake off the feeling that I've somehow upset him. The cabin feels colder, despite the fire. I catch him looking at me with a frown, and I quickly look away, my heart racing with a mix of confusion and something akin to hurt.

I sit wrapped in a blanket, feeling more alone than I've ever been. “Is everything okay?” I finally ask, my voice small. He hesitates, then nods, but his eyes don’t meet mine. I sigh, a sense of loss washing over me.

The atmosphere is strained. I try to engage Erik in conversation about anything – the books on the shelf, the pattern of the snow outside – but his responses are brief, his attention seemingly elsewhere. I find myself watching the snowflakes drift lazily past the window, feeling a pang of longing for the easy camaraderie we had just yesterday. The cabin, once a haven from the storm, now feels like a cage, trapping us in this uncomfortable silence.

I decide to make some tea, the sound of the kettle a welcome distraction.

“Need any help with that?”Erik offers a half-hearted hand, but it's clear his mind is miles away.

“No, thank you. It’s almost done anyway.”

I get two mugs and put two of the sugar cubes from the wooden box that had everything to make English tea inside. By the time I have everything set, the little whistle is just starting to flutter.

The steam from the tea rises, mixing with the lingering scent of pine, creating a homely aroma that under different circumstances, would have been comforting.

I hand Erik a mug, our fingers brushing momentarily, but the spark that once was there seems to have dimmed. I retreat to my corner of the cabin, sipping my tea, the warmth doing little to ease the chill in my heart.

As the evening sets in, I find myself reflecting on our time together, wondering where things went wrong. Erik remains quiet, his gaze often lingering on the dying embers of the fire. I want to reach out, to bridge the gap that has formed between us, but uncertainty holds me back.

The cabin is filled with the sound of the wind outside, a mournful howl that seems to echo my own feelings. Wrapped in my blanket, I watch Erik from across the room, longing for a return to the connection we'd started to build.