From the Cosmos. [gxg]

xx. melting.

For the third time since meeting Colette, Marisol woke up attached. Though, for the first time, they weren't in a bed. Marisol couldn't move much, she was cocooned in an oversized jacket with Colette, who still seemed to be asleep. As Marisol moved her head slightly, she took in her surroundings as best as she could. It wasn't as cold as it was yesterday, and the atmosphere felt suspiciously wet.

The snow must have melted, Marsiol thought. She tried to wiggle her way out of the jacket, so that she could look around. She remembered limited details. She got stuck in the snow, Colette came and wrapped her up, and she didn't die of frostbite like she thought she was going to. She could feel her head ready to force itself out of the collar of the jacket when Colette shifted below her.

Colette's voice was low and hoarse as she spoke. "Mari, wait..."

Marisol paused, unsure of how to respond, only to feel the jacket unzipping around her. Once the doors of her safehaven were open, cool air hit her body. Then, she became overly aware of how she didn't have a shirt on. She felt around for her clothes all while staying in Colette's lap. When she felt cloth under her fingers, it was soaking wet.

"What are you doing?" Colette asked.

"I was looking for my shirt, but it's wet."

"Oh."

Despite the warm body next to her, Marisol disconnected herself and stood up. "We need to get back, I bet Nevada and their parents are worried sick."

Colette stood slowly, as if shaking the sleep off her tall frame. "Are you okay to walk?"

Marisol shook out her legs. "I can feel my limbs again, so I think so." Marisol reached over to grab her camera bag, but she couldn't get a hold of it before she felt something heavy drape over her shoulders.

"Take the jacket," said Colette, "my top is dry."

Marisol didn't argue. She slipped her arms through the sleeves and zipped up the jacket. It hung off of her like a weird dress. She grabbed her camera bag, trying not to think of the potential damage to the contents inside, and glanced around.

Soft yellow light shone through the tree canopy and onto the wet ground, where only small remnants of the snowstorm hours before remained. In another circumstance, Marisol would have found the scenery pretty, but now it just felt bizarre.

Colette turned a bit and started walking. "This direction," she said, "Let's go."

Marisol stayed slightly behind Colette so that she could follow the taller woman's lead. As she walked, she stared at Colette's turned figure. The model was wearing a sweater, which lessened the guilt of taking her jacket. Marisol was undeniably grateful for Colette who had saved her life, but right now the distance between them felt strange.

Marisol knew that what they just went through was exhausting, and she tried to rationalize that they'd be able to talk later, and everything would be fine. Despite this, her mind kept wandering back to the fact that they had slept together and then she had run away, leaving no trace, only for Colette to find her freezing in the snow.

What was even worse was Colette's silence. The French woman didn't say a word, only trekking forward through the woods. Regret and nervousness pooled in Marisol's stomach. She didn't know how to breach the subject.

Marisol pondered over it, and when she finally decided to rip off the bandaid, they had broken through the trees. The house was visible, and as soon as they emerged, the door slammed open, revealing a disgruntled Nevada in pajamas.

"Holy shit, you're alive!" they yelled, "Get inside!"

Marisol and Colette hurried indoors and were soon met with Mr. and Mrs. Schultz, who had bags under their eyes.

"I didn't sleep a wink because of you two," Mr. Schultz said.

"Don't badger them now, honey," said Mrs. Schultz, "Let's get you two to bed with a warm drink and food. We can save the lecture for later."

Mrs. Schultz practically pushed the two young women up the stairs and into bed. She closed the door, mentioning that she'd be back and reminding them to change. The two of them swiftly put on sweatpants and t-shirts and got into bed. They hadn't known Mrs. Schultz for long, but they knew better than to disobey her.

Silence passed between them. Marisol swore seconds became achingly long as she mustered up the courage to open her mouth.

"Colette, I-"

Mrs. Schultz opened the door carrying a tray of steaming mugs and hot pancakes. "Eat up, girls!"

"Thank you," said Colette as Mrs. Shultz put down the tray on their laps.

Mrs. Schultz smiled and nodded in response. "I'll check up on you two later," she said, walking out the door.

Colette carefully picked up a mug and took a small sip. If it was hot enough to burn, Marisol couldn't tell. The witch next to her didn't even flinch. Marisol concentrated on finding her nerve again while cutting a pancake with the side of her fork and stuffing the bite in her mouth.

This process continued for a few minutes. The two of them ate pancakes and took careful sips of hot chocolate in silence. To Marisol, the silence was almost deafening, but she couldn't find a way to break it. She didn't have the right words.

"Why did you leave?" Colette asked.

Marisol almost spilled hot chocolate on herself, startled. She put the cup down and swallowed. She knew the answer to this one. "I was confused."

Colette didn't look at Marisol, choosing to stare at the tray in front of them instead. "About what?"

Marisol took a deep breath. "It was impulsive of me to sleep with you," she said, "I like you, a lot. But I didn't think about the long term." She fiddled with the handle of her fork. "We're stuck here as enemies of the state, and even if things return to normal, you're a celebrity and I'm not. I don't want to start a relationship if it's not something that will last." Marisol faded into silence. She wished that saying all of that made the weight on her chest lighter, but it did the opposite. The pressure threatened to cave her in. A pause stretched between them, as if Colette was processing what Marisol just said.

"You like me?" Colette asked.

Marisol nearly whipped her head around to look at Colette. She found the woman staring back at her, a grin on her face. Marisol's brain went into some sort of emergency mode because of all the things she had just confessed, Colette had focused on what seemed like the smallest part.

"I..." Marisol blinked, taken aback, "Yes, I do." She still had no idea why Colette was smiling.

"Then we should try," Colette said, "We should date."

"Did you listen to the rest of what I said?"

Colette laughed, airy and loud. "Of course, but I think we could work around all of those problems together."

Marisol furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't understand."

"We've known each other for less than a month, and we've already fled a crime scene together, become fugitives, and almost died in the snow. I don't think things could get worse than this, and you know what?" Colette paused.

"What?"

"I think I'd do it all again because I'd be doing it with you."