Dylan and Hugh tumbled through the cabin door, laughing and swearing as the storm raged outside.
“I told you,” Dylan panted, shutting the door and shaking her head, spraying water everywhere, “that it was going to rain.”
Hugh grinned, peeling off his sweatshirt. “Yeah, okay, so you were right. But I did say a walk would be invigorating, didn’t I?”
Dylan rolled her eyes, slipping off her sodden sneakers and tiptoeing around the puddles. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
“Come on,” Hugh wheedled. “You know this will make a great story, someday.”
“Well, if I get a cold, I’m blaming you.”
Hugh just laughed. “What are friends for?”
Dylan shook her head, walking toward the door at the other side of the room. “I’m going to take a hot shower, and get in some dry clothes.”
“Yeah, you may want to skip the shower part,” Hugh said, grimacing. “There’s not much hot water up here at the best of times, and something about storms makes everything icy cold.”
Waving her arms in exasperation, Dylan changed course, heading for a different door. “Fine, fine, just the warm clothes then.”
She disappeared, and Hugh continued to strip off his own wet clothes. His bags were still by the door, anyway. He could change out here while she changed in the bedroom.
“And another thing – oh!”
Hugh’s eyes flew back to the bedroom door, balancing on one foot with his soaked jeans mostly off. Dylan stood there, eyes huge, wearing shorts and an oversized flannel.
“Sorry!” she blurted, turning around and continuing to speak loudly. “I was just going to say… that is… um…” she turned back, saw that he was still mostly naked, and darted back into the bedroom.
He felt his face turn red, but tried to ignore it. They were friends, just friends, and sometimes friends saw each other semi-nude. It wasn’t like he thought about her all the time, or that he sometimes caught her looking at him in a strange way, or that he still got butterflies every time he saw her, even as he tried to ignore them. They were friends.
Hugh shook his head. He needed to get dressed, before she came back out again. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to shake most of the water out, before grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from his duffel-bag.
“All good?” Dylan’s soft voice came from the doorway, and Hugh saw she had her eyes covered. She looked very cute. Just friends, he chided himself.
“Yeah, all good,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “I don’t go on again for another hour.”
Dylan laughed, and slowly lowered her hands. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect… well.” She shrugged. “Let’s pretend it never happened, right?”
“Right,” Hugh agreed, even as something sunk in his stomach.
She nodded, and crossed over to the small kitchen area. “So, hot chocolate?”
“Only if we spike it with that whiskey you brought,” Hugh said, joining her at the stove. He reached across her to the cupboard, intending to bring down the saucepan. He realized too late that the move placed him right in front of her, pinning her gently to the counter.
Their eyes met, inches from each other, and Hugh froze. She was so close, he could feel her chest rise and fall with each breath that matched his.
“Sorry,” he said, quietly, not backing away.
“It’s… okay,” she said, barely a whisper, her wide eyes staring into his.
They stood that way for a moment, two, before Hugh pulled himself away, not quite meeting her eyes.
“Er, could you grab?” he mumbled, taking a step back and gesturing to the saucepan behind her.
“Oh, yeah, sure,” she said, giving him one last look before handing him the saucepan, then bustling over to the grocery bags they brought with them.
“Do you want marshmallows in addition to the whiskey?” she asked, digging through one of the paper bags.
“I can’t believe you have to ask that question,” he drawled sarcastically, setting the saucepan on the stove and lighting the burner. “We’re going totally decadent here tonight.”
“Hmm.”
Hugh looked up, and saw Dylan staring at the marshmallows, brow furrowed and a small frown on her face. “What’d those marshmallows do to you?”
“Huh?” she asked, glancing up at him in surprise, then grinning sheepishly. “Oh, nothing. Just… thinking about something, that’s all.”
“It didn’t look like a good something,” he pressed, though he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to know.
“It wasn’t necessarily a bad something,” she continued, still rummaging through the bag. “Just, like, a maybe something.”
“Okay, then,” Hugh said, letting it go. He went to the fridge and pulled out the milk, and jumped when he turned around and Dylan was standing right behind him.
“Dylan, what the h-”
“I was just thinking,” she said, cutting him off, “what this might be like.” She leaned forward, slowly, eyes flicking from his face to his mouth. He stood motionless, watching her move closer and closer, holding his breath. Was she? Did she? What…
Her lips met his, and he wasn’t sure which one of them sighed. The kiss was light, tentative. Like they both wanted to be there, but weren’t sure of the other. Hugh brought his hands up, and gently rested them on her arms, sliding them up to her neck, her face.
Dylan’s hands twisted themselves in his shirt, and she pulled him closer. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate, and Hugh’s mind went blank except for her. This is what he had never allowed himself to hope for. This is what had haunted his dreams and his waking moments, the thing he wanted more than anything but feared to reach for.
This realization hit him, and he pulled back, just a little.
Dylan jerked back, and started to pull away, but Hugh held her steady.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, looking down at the floor. “I was just thinking, and then I wasn’t, and I shouldn’t have, it’s just… we’re friends, I don’t want to lose that, and-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Hugh said, ducking his head to try and meet her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”
She finally met his gaze. “Right, because we’re friends.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “And because we are friends, I’ve resisted kissing you for ages and ages. I didn’t want to make things weird if you didn’t-”
She cut him off with another kiss, and he grinned against her lips.
“See, I knew going on that walk was a good idea,” he said, kissing his way across her cheek, down her neck. “Downright invigorating.”
Dylan laughed, pulling his face back to hers, hot chocolate totally forgotten.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020