Bad Things

22. Redemption

WARNING:

There is a very M-rated material below. Don't say I didn't give you a heads up.

We'll just have a very slight break from the angst here for a moment—and when I say a moment, I really DO mean a moment. I hope you all enjoy it while it lasts! I think our two lovebirds deserved a second to breathe, don't they?

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The air grew considerably colder as Camila stood beside the field at Whitecastle's, holding onto Shawn with a grip she was sure had to be tighter than death. Even as her body shook and her fingers went numb, she kept her face buried in his neck, her hands clutching his shirt. There was nowhere else she wanted to be: not inside, not warm, not anywhere. She was safe with him, with her eyes, heart, and mind closed to the rest of the world. But no matter how hard she tried to forget, no matter how tight she fisted the material covering his back, the heavy weight inside her stomach just would not go away.

"We should go," he murmured in her ear, though his arms stayed tight around her, as if he really didn't mean the words at all.

"Not yet," Camila said.

"But you're shaking."

"So are you."

"That's because I'm freezing my ass off out here."

Camila snorted and pulled back from him. When she opened her eyes, her breath caught when she saw that, in the precious moments she and Shawn had been lost inside one another, the sky had opened up and an abundance of large, soft flakes were falling down all around them. It wasn't one of those gentle, peaceful snows that reminded Camila of little puffs of cotton meandering through the air, but was more reminiscent of a snow globe being shaken mercilessly by a two-years-old. The world around them was nothing but a mass of white, blocking Camila's sight from anything that wasn't a foot or less in front of her. She didn't know how she could have not noticed, as now she could feel the heavy, wet weight of the accumulation on her hair and body, and the little sting of cold as pieces struck and slid down her cheeks.

Camila tried to blink away the flakes that came at her eyes, but it seemed the more she did, the more her vision blurred. She tilted her head up to Shawn and squinted through her wet lashes. His face was somewhat obscured by the veil of frozen water between them, but she could make out that he'd lost some of the pained, worried look from before.

Shawn reached up and gently brushed a clump of snow-laden hair away from her face. Camila shivered from the touch of his fingers against her temple.

"Come on," he said. "I should get you home before you freeze."

She wanted to protest, to tell him that in no uncertain terms did she want to go home. But before she had a chance to say anything at all, his hand wrapped around hers, and they were moving quickly through the oblivion. Snow slapped her in the face and bit at her cheeks. She had no idea which direction they were going, or even if it was the right way, but with Shawn's hand intertwined tightly with hers, she really didn't care. Whiteness filled the sky and spaces around them, and it almost felt as if they were the only ones left in the entire world. She would have given anything right then if that could be true.