"But we did," he concluded with a small nod."We made it through because we had each other's backs."
“That sounds like a great group of guys.”
"I remember Glenn," he said, his lips curving up in a rare smile."Glenn hated the cold."
The way his eyes softened at the memory made me lean in, eager to hear more.
"There we were, freezing our arses off in that cave," he continued, "and Glenn starts cursing up a storm.He had this knack for turning even the most dire situations into comedy.So, he looks at us and says, 'If we make it out of here, I'm moving to Hawaii and never touching snow again.'"
I couldn't help but grin."Did he ever make it to Hawaii?"
Christian chuckled, shaking his head."No, but he did buy a ridiculously expensive heated blanket as soon as we got back."
The mental image of a tough soldier cocooned in a heated blanket brought a laugh to my lips."Sounds like quite the character."
"Yeah," Christian said, the warmth fading from his voice.His face turned solemn, shadows creeping back into his expression.
I hesitated before asking the next question, sensing it might be a sensitive topic.But my curiosity got the better of me."Do you still talk to them?"
He shook his head slowly."No."
The single word hung heavy in the air between us.I immediately regretted asking, seeing the pain it brought to his eyes.
"I'm sorry," I said softly.
He gave a small nod, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the Christmas tree lights.The festive cheer around us felt muted, replaced by the weight of unspoken memories and loss.
I wanted to say something more, to bridge the gap between us, but words seemed inadequate.Instead, I reached out and gently touched his arm, offering silent support.
Christian's eyes flickered to mine for a moment before he looked away again.The connection between us was fragile yet undeniable.
We stood there in shared silence once more, letting the sounds of the celebration wash over us while we each grappled with our own thoughts and emotions.
An idea sparked in my mind."Come on," I said, grabbing his wrist.
"Where are we going?"he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"To get something warm."
I led him off the roof, down the narrow staircase, and into the inn.The moment we stepped inside, the warmth embraced us, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside.The air smelled of pine and cinnamon, familiar and comforting.
We made our way through the bustling common room and down the stairs to the kitchen.The glow from the fireplace cast a golden hue over everything, and I felt a sense of peace wash over me.The clatter of dishes and soft murmur of conversation filled the space, creating a cozy ambiance.
I headed straight for the stove where a pot of hot chocolate simmered gently.Grabbing two mugs from the shelf, I poured the rich, steaming liquid into each one.
Christian stood nearby, watching me with a curious expression."You always have hot chocolate ready?"
I handed him a mug, our fingers brushing briefly."It's a tradition around here," I said with a smile."Helps chase away the cold."
He took a sip, closing his eyes for a moment as he savored the taste."This is good."
"Secret recipe," I replied with a wink.
We settled at the small table near the hearth, the heat from the fire warming our faces.The flickering flames danced in his eyes, making them seem even more intense than usual.
"I needed this," he admitted after a few moments of silence.
"Everyone needs something warm now and then," I said softly."Especially during Christmas."
