An overwhelming feeling of warmth and softness settled over me as I burrowed deeper into the heavy blankets that I, for a moment in time, feared I would never experience again. Thanks to Rowen and his efforts to find me, I could gratefully say I was proven wrong.

"Are you sure you don't need another blanket or anything?" Rowen asked. He had been hovering over me like a helicopter mom ever since my rescue and it had only been about an hour since we arrived back at the cabin.

I shook my head, wishing he would leave me to sleep. "I'm fine, really," I said.

With soft eyes, as soft as the blankets, Rowen smiled and stroked my hair. "I'll just go make you some soup," he said.

I watched him leave, eyes half-closed already, and sighed into my covers. Though I made the effort to pretend as though everything was fine, I could hardly move without trembling; pain shot through my body at the slightest exertion. I was really tired too. All of the adrenaline from my experience must have finally worn off...

I don't know how long I slept, but when I awoke, the room was dark and I couldn't see the sun outside the window anymore. Faintly, I could hear the TV playing in the living room, a football game if I wasn't mistaken. I tried to sit up a little, but in my dazed state my elbow hit a glass of water off the bedside table. It crashed to the floor, making me grimace as the sound bounced around in my fuzzy head. A moment later, the TV clicked off and Rowen opened the bedroom door.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Sorry," I said. "I guess I'm still not moving well."

"Of course not, it's only been a few hours," he said. He hurried over and started picking up the glass. My silence must have given him the wrong impression because he added, "Don't worry about it. I'll clean it up."

However, when he cut his finger, the guilt returned tenfold. "Sorry..." I said again.

He chuckled softly, almost with amused exasperation. "It's really okay," he promised. He smiled lightly and I couldn't help turning pink from embarrassment. He didn't smile often, at least not a real smile. It was embarrassing to admit, but I couldn't help thinking he should smile more.

He finished picking up the broken glass and left the room to throw it away. When he returned, he mopped up the puddle of water with a towel. I noticed he hadn't wrapped his finger yet, and the blood was seeping into the towel. I don't know what made me do it, especially in my condition, but I started trying to get out of bed. He frowned and quickly stood up, taking my shoulders firmly. "Hey, slow down. You need to stay in bed," he warned. "You almost died of hypothermia and blood loss. Now is not the time for you to be wandering around."

I pushed past him anyway and limped into the bathroom to get a bandage. When I couldn't reach them on the top shelf, Rowen took them down for me. "What do you need this for?" he asked.

After wordlessly pulling out a gauze wrap, I took his hand. "I wanted to return a favor..." I mumbled as I started to wrap his finger. "You did save my life."

His confusion vanished and he watched me with gentle surprise. "I could've just brought it to you," he protested.

"And done it yourself while I sat stranded in bed? I don't think so," I said sharply. "That would've defeated the purpose."

Suddenly, the hand by his side lifted to cup my cheek. My hands stopped and I held very still as his forehead lightly rested against my own. "Thank you," he said. His skin was warm.

I pulled away from him to limp back into the bedroom, hoping he couldn't see the blush on my face. What was that? A gesture of gratitude? It didn't matter, he was too close. I hadn't been that close to his face since that night, and I had intended to never be that close again. I wasn't about to break my resolve that quickly.

"Is there anything you need?" Rowen asked. "You haven't eaten yet. Are you hungry?"

I ignored the heat that came to my skin when he touched my arm to help me back into the bed. "I am a little hungry," I admitted, if only to get him out of the room.

"I'll go heat up that soup from earlier," he said. However, he didn't leave right away. Instead, he took a moment to scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, not meeting my eyes.

Here it comes, I thought.

"After you eat... can we talk about what happened?" he asked.

I didn't meet his eyes. It suddenly felt like I had swallowed tar. "I... I guess..." I mumbled.

That was good enough for him, and he left the room to make me dinner. It wasn't until the door was securely shut that I started feeling the panic get to me. What if he asked me how I felt? I could barely ask myself. How was I supposed to answer him? 

I repeatedly wet my lips as I waited for Rowen to return, wondering if locking myself in the bathroom was an option. It felt like the time dragged on and on as my mind jumped back and forth between trying to listen to Rowen in the kitchen and trying to pretend like I was as aloof as always. I wasn't, but I practiced putting on a good face, even if it did crack the moment Rowen reentered the room. 

He set a steaming bowl of soup in my lap. "There you go," he said with a forced smile; he was as nervous as me. "Eat up."

I had lost my appetite over my fretting, but I managed to eat most of the food before realizing I probably should have let my stomach of knots settle first. When I said I was done, Rowen took my bowl to the kitchen, giving me a few more minutes of silent torture before he came back in and sat at the foot of the bed, away from me.

"So... " he started, trying to sound upbeat. "I guess I should start with an apology."

"Maybe..." I said. "But you were drunk, so it's not that big a deal. Stuff happens when people are drunk. You don't need to apologize."

"Drunk or not, I shouldn't have let myself go that way. I... lost control," Rowen said, looking angry with himself. "If I hadn't started drinking, I'd never have ended up like that. I should have known better. I know my limits. Even if I had been drunk, I am not supposed to let myself go, even if I'm alone..."

Before I knew it, Rowen was on a rampage of words and he just kept talking. I tried to get his attention, but he wasn't listening to me. The more he talked, the more erratic and irrational his ideas became, and the more he started making less and less rational sense. It was like he had thought about this so much he had stopped looking at it in a realistic way. In a final act of desperation, I threw a pillow at the side of his head. "Shut up, will you?!" I said. "I can barely get a word in edgewise."

Rowen looked down at his lap and took a deep breath, though he looked no less calm than before. "Sorry..." he apologized.

"How many cups of coffee did you drink?" I asked.

He hesitated, reluctant to admit. "Only four..." he said.

I resisted throwing my hands up at him. "You're making a big deal out of this," I said.

"It is a big deal!" Rowen burst out, on his feet in an instant. 

I jumped at the volume of his voice. "Rowen... You were drunk. I couldn't control you, you couldn't control you and..." I sighed. "Things got out of hand. It's that simple."

"Simple?"

I had expected a million different reactions, been prepared for a thousand different excuses, but that one-word response, and the cadence that accompanied it, was something I never could have been ready for. When I looked at Rowen, he seemed almost disgusted by the word. The guilt returned and I suddenly would have listened to every word of his rant ten times over rather than that word. 

"I need air," Rowen said. "I'll be back later."

I tried to tell him to wait, but he was gone before I even got the words out. I dropped my head into my hands. Now he was mad, and I didn't even know why. At least before I could make a guess as to how he would take this conversation, but it appeared as though I had assumed everything all wrong. I was missing something, and I hated that more than anything.

Despite our exhausting conversation, I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to sit still anymore, so I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and stepped into the living room in search of Rowen. The floor was cold under my feet as I padded across the room to stand on the rug in front of the couch. No sign of him.

Looking around the room, I noticed the back porch light was on. His last words implied that he wanted space, but I walked over nonetheless and looked out the window. Rowen was sitting with his back to the door, chin in his palm. I could see a lit cigarette in his mouth.

I watched him, weighing my options. Then I pushed the door open and stepped out, sitting down next to him on the cold porch. "I didn't know you smoked," I said.

He didn't look at me. "Only when I'm stressed," he replied.

I hugged my knees to my chest to keep warm, and we sat in silence for a while, just watching snow blow past in the cold air. Then I said, "You know, I was never upset with you about what happened."

Rowen didn't meet my gaze.

I leaned against his shoulder, the touch spreading warmth through my body in a way the blanket never could. "I was just scared it would change... us."

He took a deep, slow breath, exhaling smoke. "So, you want it to mean nothing?" he asked. His words were even but sharp.

I was quiet, letting that sink in. Finally, I admitted, "No. Even if I did want that, there's no way it could ever mean 'nothing'."

"Then what do you want?" Rowen asked, sinking deeper into his own palm, eyes still on the ground.

I remained against his shoulder. "I don't know," I admitted. "But I know that, whatever happens, I don't want to lose us over an accident," I said.

Cigarette ash fell to the ground at our feet. For a while, Rowen said nothing. Then he sighed. "I have always been alone," he said. "Why should that change now?"

His words sent an ache through me that none of my physical pain could compare to. I let the blanket slip from my shoulders as I shuffled closer into his arms, finally prompting him to look at me fully. Despite the despair of his words, his eyes were searching.

"You've never been alone," I said. "And you aren't alone now."

*******

Subscribe to my YouTube at: Melanie Eberheart

Donate to my Patreon at: patreon.com/MelanieEberheart

Buy me a coffee on my Ko-fi at: Ko-fi.com/melanie_eberheart

Tweet me on Twitter at: twitter.com/MelanieEberhea1

Check out my Facebook at: www.facebook.com/melanie.eberheart.1

Or follow me on Tumblr at: nekosaysmeow333

-Nekoco