"You're helping."
She rolls her eyes.
The smile that follows makes my chest do something stupid.
We work in companionable silence for a minute.
No awkwardness.
No effort.
Just...easy.
That's what keeps catching me off guard: how easy everything feels around her.
The quiet. The conversation. The pauses.
Nothing feels forced. Nothing feels fake.
And every time I notice that it becomes harder to remember where the pretending is supposed to be.
The dish slips slightly in her hand.
Without thinking, I reach out, catch it.
Our hands brush.
A simple thing. Nothing dramatic.
Still.
Neither of us moves immediately. For one second. Two.
Then she clears her throat. I step back.
The moment disappears.
But not completely.
Some things linger.
This is becoming one of them.
***
Movie night begins shortly afterward.
According to Jillie, every snowstorm requires: hot chocolate, blankets, movies, and emergency snacks.
The emergency snacks seem suspiciously identical to regular snacks.
I decide not to mention it.
The three of us pile onto the couch.
The fort remains nearby.
Jillie insists it must stay.
