7. Vivienne

7

VIVIENNE

M orning crept into the cabin, casting pale light across its modest interior. Ice framed the windows in intricate patterns, and the muted glow filtered through the panes, turning the disorganized space into a patchwork of shadows and light. The faint hum of the woodstove filled the quiet, its warmth battling the persistent chill that had seeped into every corner of the cabin.

Vivienne sat cross-legged on the sofa, wrapped in one of Alex’s oversized wool blankets. Her gaze followed Alex’s movements as she crouched near the sink, tools strewn around her in an unceremonious sprawl. A flashlight lay propped against the counter, illuminating the tangle of pipes beneath it. Steam curled upward from a pot of water Alex had set on the stove, a testament to the creative measures she’d taken to keep the pipes from freezing entirely.

Vivienne’s fingers tightened around the blanket. She had never seen someone work with such calm precision. Alex’s brow furrowed as she tightened a fitting, her movements deliberate and sure. Every twist of her wrist, every glance at the tools, seemed to have purpose. It was...impressive. Vivienne hated to admit it, but she was beginning to see Alex in a new light.

The same hands that had been rough and demanding last night now moved with a surprising gentleness, coaxing stubborn pipes into cooperation. Vivienne shifted in her seat, unsettled by the thought. She wasn’t supposed to be noticing things like this. Alex was supposed to be just an irritant, a fleeting distraction until this nightmare of a snowstorm passed.

And yet, here she was, mesmerized by the curve of Alex’s shoulders as she worked, by the way her breath fogged the cold air .

“You’re staring,” Alex muttered, not looking up.

Vivienne started, heat rushing to her cheeks. “I—no, I’m not,” she retorted, a little too quickly.

Alex snorted, her lips quirking in a brief, lopsided smirk. “Sure, princess.”

The nickname was still infuriating, but it lacked the usual edge. It sounded almost…endearing, like a playful teasing.

Vivienne pressed her lips together, determined not to rise to the bait. Instead, she forced herself to look around the room. The state of the cabin—the scattered tools, the faint smell of damp wood, the barely contained chaos—grated against her sensibilities. Yet, there was something strangely comforting about it. It felt lived-in, a far cry from the sterile, meticulously curated spaces she was used to.

Her gaze drifted back to Alex. “You’re good at this,” she said, the compliment feeling awkward in her mouth.

Alex paused, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows. “What, fixing things?”

Vivienne shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Yes. I mean, clearly you’ve done this sort of thing before.”

Alex didn’t respond immediately, turning her attention back to the pipe. “You grow up in a place like this, you learn to handle things yourself,” she said simply. “Not much choice.”

There was no judgment in her tone, but the words still hit Vivienne like a subtle rebuke. Of course Alex was self-sufficient. She’d had to be. Vivienne, on the other hand...

Her chest tightened. How useless she must seem in comparison, fumbling to light a fire while Alex rebuilt their temporary world with her bare hands. She swallowed hard, trying to push away the thought of Alex’s rough, calloused hands over her body.

Instead, she focused on the rhythmic scrape of Alex’s wrench, the faint hissing sound as steam escaped the pipe. “What if it doesn’t work?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Alex shrugged, not looking up. “Then I’ll figure something else out.”

Vivienne blinked. The answer was so matter-of-fact, so confident, it was almost infuriating. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Alex echoed. She set the wrench down and wiped her hands on a rag, finally meeting Vivienne’s eyes. “Survival isn’t about getting it perfect. It’s about doing what you can with what you’ve got.”

The words stuck in Vivienne’s mind like a burr. Survival. It was such a foreign concept to her, so far removed from the privileged, insulated life she’d built. Yet here, in this cramped cabin with Alex’s steady hands and pragmatic outlook, it felt startlingly real.

“I... I can help,” she said.

Alex blinked, clearly taken aback. “Help?”

“Yes. I mean, I can hold something or...I don’t know, pass you tools or something.” Vivienne’s cheeks burned, but she refused to back down.

For a moment, Alex just looked at her, as if trying to gauge her sincerity. Then she gave a small, begrudging nod. “Fine. Hold the flashlight.”

Vivienne scrambled off the sofa, clutching the flashlight as though it were a lifeline. She crouched awkwardly beside Alex, the coldness of the wooden floor seeping through her leggings.

“Point it here,” Alex instructed, gesturing to a section of the pipe.

Vivienne adjusted the beam of light, her fingers brushing against Alex’s as she handed over a screwdriver. Alex didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, and for some reason, that small detail made Vivienne’s chest ache.

They worked in silence, save for Alex’s occasional instructions. The tension that had defined their earlier interactions seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative sense of cooperation.

When Alex finally straightened, wiping her hands on her jeans, Vivienne felt an unexpected swell of pride. “That should hold,” Alex said, nodding at the now-secured pipe.

Vivienne glanced at her, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “See? I’m not completely useless,” she said, more to herself than to Alex.

Alex’s mouth twitched, her expression softening just enough to make Vivienne’s breath catch. “Not completely,” she said, her tone almost warm .

In that moment, the storm outside felt just a little less cold.

The storm had eased, its once-howling winds now little more than a whisper that swept against the cabin walls. The stillness left behind felt heavier somehow, like the world itself had stopped to catch its breath. Inside, the fire cast flickering shadows that danced across the walls, painting the room in hues of amber and gold. The air was warmer near the stove where Vivienne and Alex sat, a small table between them.

Steam curled upward from their mugs—Alex’s filled with tea, Vivienne’s with a generous splash of whiskey she’d insisted was for the chill. It was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire and the clink of ceramic against wood.

Vivienne studied Alex from across the table. Her posture was loose but guarded, a faint line between her brows betraying her ever-present vigilance. In the shifting light, Alex seemed less imposing, her sharp edges softened by the glow. For once, she didn’t look like the woman who had spent the day barking orders and repairing pipes. She looked...human.

Vivienne wrapped her hands around her mug, savoring the warmth against her fingers. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it felt fragile, as though one wrong word could send them retreating to their respective corners. Still, the quiet pressed on her, urging her to speak.

“Have you always lived out here?” she asked.

Alex glanced up, her eyes briefly narrowing in suspicion, but something in Vivienne’s expression must have disarmed her. She leaned back in her chair, her mug cradled loosely in one hand.

“Not always,” she said after a moment. “Grew up in a town not too far from here, spent some time elsewhere, then I came back.”

Vivienne tilted her head. “Elsewhere? That’s awfully vague.”

Alex smirked faintly. “It’s all you’re getting for now. ”

The tease caught Vivienne off guard, and she felt a smile tug at her lips despite herself. “Fair enough,” she said, taking a sip from her mug.

The quiet stretched again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. Vivienne traced the rim of her cup with her finger, gathering her thoughts. She’d been drawn to Alex’s rare moment of lightness, but she couldn’t ignore the weight she’d carried into this room with her.

“I’ve always been bad at this,” she said suddenly, her words breaking the calm like ripples in still water.

Alex’s brow furrowed. “At what?”

Vivienne hesitated, her eyes fixed on the amber liquid in her mug. “At...letting people in. At being vulnerable.” She laughed softly, the sound tinged with self-deprecation. “I guess it’s easier to keep people at arm’s length when you know they’re just going to leave anyway.”

Alex didn’t respond immediately. When Vivienne looked up, she found those warm brown eyes studying her, unflinching but not unkind.

“People leave,” Alex said finally. “That’s just how it is. But that doesn’t mean you stop trying.”

The simplicity of the statement hit Vivienne harder than she expected. She looked away, her grip tightening on the mug. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Trying just feels exhausting.”

Alex made a low sound in her throat, something between agreement and acknowledgment. “It is,” she said. “But it’s worth it. Sometimes.”

Vivienne glanced at her, caught by the flicker of something raw in Alex’s expression. “You’ve been hurt before,” she said, the words more an observation than a question.

Alex’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Haven’t we all?” she said lightly, but there was no mistaking the pain beneath the deflection.

Vivienne leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be, you know,” she said, her tone gentle but teasing.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not as helpless as you act. ”

Vivienne laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Touché.”

The space between them seemed smaller now, the air charged with something that felt both fragile and electric. Vivienne hesitated, the words on her tongue feeling heavier than she expected.

“I had a fiancée once,” she said finally. “It didn’t work out. She didn’t like the person I was becoming.”

Alex’s gaze didn’t waver. “And who were you becoming?”

Vivienne smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Someone who wanted more than what she could give.” She shook her head, as though trying to dispel the memory. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Alex leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “Because you need to,” she said simply.

Vivienne’s chest tightened. How did Alex do that? Strip everything down to its bare truth without even trying?

The fire crackled, filling the silence that followed. Vivienne’s gaze drifted to the sofa, its cushions rumpled from Alex’ s restless nights. She set her mug down, the faint clink drawing Alex’s attention.

“You know,” Vivienne said, her tone casual but her heart hammering in her chest, “that sofa looks like it’s about as comfortable as a bed of rocks.”

Alex tilted her head, a shadow flickering in her eyes. “It’s fine.”

Vivienne smiled, slow and deliberate. “Come on, Alex. There’s plenty of room in the bed. I promise I won’t bite.” She paused, her smile turning sly. “Unless you ask nicely.”

Alex blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for the first time, Vivienne saw her flush. “I’m fine,” Alex said gruffly, her gaze dropping to her mug.

Vivienne leaned back, crossing her arms. “Suit yourself. But if you wake up tomorrow with a crick in your neck, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Alex muttered something under her breath, but Vivienne didn’t press. She picked up her mug again, letting the silence settle over them once more.

The cabin had settled into an eerie quiet, the kind that followed a storm’s fury. Outside, the wind had died, leaving only the occasional groan of the trees as they shifted. Inside, the fire cast a steady, golden glow across the room, its warmth licking at the edges of the bed where Vivienne lay waiting.

The quilt was heavy over her legs, a cocoon of softness that contrasted the sharp edges of her nerves. Her heart beat fast, the rhythm drumming against her ribs as she watched Alex hesitate near the foot of the bed.

Alex stood there, her broad shoulders tense, one hand gripping the back of her neck. Her hesitation was palpable, an almost physical barrier in the charged air. The firelight played tricks, highlighting the hard lines of her jaw and the slight twitch in her fingers.

Vivienne shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow. Her voice, when she spoke, was soft, coaxing. “It’s just a bed, Alex. Not a declaration of war.”

Alex glanced at her, the faintest quirk of her lips betraying a reluctant amusement. “ Feels like one.”

Vivienne smiled, letting her fingers trail across the edge of the quilt. “You think too much.” Her tone held a playful lilt, but the look in her eyes was unguarded. “Come here.”

Alex didn’t move right away, her gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, Vivienne thought she might walk away and go back to the couch. But then Alex exhaled, a slow, deliberate sound, and crossed the space between them in two long strides.

She paused at the edge of the bed, her weight shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t...” Alex started, but her voice trailed off, the words faltering.

Vivienne reached for her hand, her fingers brushing against Alex’s calloused palm. “You don’t have to explain,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just be here.”

That seemed to break something in Alex. She sat down slowly, the mattress dipping under her weight. Her shoulders were still taut, her body coiled with a tension Vivienne could feel from inches away.

Vivienne moved closer, her hand sliding up Alex’s arm. Her touch was light, almost hesitant, as though afraid to spook her. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I don’t bite, remember?”

Alex huffed a laugh, the sound low and almost reluctant. “I remember,” she said, her voice rough around the edges.

The air between them thickened, the quiet amplifying every shift, every breath. Vivienne’s hand moved to Alex’s cheek, caressing circles on her smooth skin. Alex turned slightly into the touch, her eyes closing for just a moment before they met Vivienne’s.

“Why are you doing this?” Alex asked, her voice barely audible.

Vivienne’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in the question, the unspoken weight behind it. “Because I want to,” she said simply, her hand falling to Alex’s chest. She could feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath her palm, a grounding rhythm that steadied her own nerves.

When Alex finally leaned in, it was tentative, as though she still wasn’t sure this was allowed. Vivienne met her halfway, her lips brushing softly against Alex’s. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory, but it deepened quickly, the heat between them sparking to life like the fire that warmed the room.

Vivienne shifted, pulling Alex down onto the bed with her. The quilt tangled around them as their bodies pressed together, the warmth of Alex’s skin seeping into her own. There was an urgency to Alex’s movements, a different type of hunger that Vivienne hadn’t seen before but welcomed all the same.

She tugged at the hem of Alex’s shirt, her fingers brushing against the bare skin beneath. Alex shuddered under her touch, her breath hitching as Vivienne’s hands explored the planes of her back.

“You’re so tense,” Vivienne murmured against Alex’s lips, her tone teasing.

“Hard to relax,” Alex muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Vivienne’s laugh was soft, a low, warm sound that filled the space between them. “Let me help with that,” she said, her voice tinged with both playfulness and promise. "Stay with me tonight. Not because it's practical or because the couch is uncomfortable, but because you want to."

For a long moment, Alex just looked at her, searching her face for something. Whatever she found there must have convinced her, because the tension in her shoulders finally eased.

"I want to," Alex admitted, the words carrying the weight of confession.

Vivienne lifted Alex’s shirt above her head and pulled it off then slid out of her nightgown, discarding the garments on the floor next to them. She pulled her down to lay next to her, acutely aware of all the points their skin touched.

They lay like that in silence, Vivienne trying to match her breathing with Alex’s. Vivienne rested her head on Alex’s chest, the rise and fall of her breathing lulling her into a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in... well, longer than she could remember.

Alex’s hand moved to her back, her fingers drawing slow, aimless patterns there. “You okay?” she asked, her voice rough but tender.

Vivienne smiled, her eyes drifting closed. “More than okay,” she murmured.

The rhythmic sound of Alex’s heartbeat filled her ears, grounding her in the moment, and the shared intimacy— different from what they had experienced together so far—felt like a welcome change. For the first time, the cabin didn’t feel quite so cold, and the storm outside seemed a distant memory. Whatever lay beyond this night, Vivienne found she wasn’t afraid to face it. Not anymore.