Riev stood in the cabin’s cramped kitchen, sleeves rolled to his elbows, scribbling sharp lines into a coffee-stained notebook. His hair curled wild, jaw clenched, the set of his shoulders daring anyone to interrupt. When Elcor stumbled in, sweater pulled tight over his wide frame, and grinned that over-bright smile, Riev barely looked up.

Elcor’s voice carried a forced cheer. “Hope you slept. If not, at least the snow’s pretty.” He dropped a battered camera on the counter, eyes scanning for approval and finding none in Riev’s bored stare. Riev answered with a shrug, mouth twisting wryly. “It’s cold and it’s white. Riveting.”

The tension cracked a little when Talia swept in, cheeks flushed from the cold, tangled hair falling over her vintage band t-shirt. She dropped her gloves, flashing a reckless, conspiratorial grin at Elcor. “The sunrise is unreal. Let’s go—bring the camera!” Her gaze flickered just briefly to Riev, who looked away too quickly.

While Riev brooded over coffee, Talia and Elcor slipped out into the snowy blue morning, boots crunching fresh powder. He watched from the kitchen as Talia’s laughter spilled up through the iced windows. Elcor’s broad hand brushed her hair from her face as they lined up a shot, and Talia tilted her head, hopeful and shining.

Snowflakes clung to Talia’s lashes. Elcor leaned in, the air around them charged, and the kiss that followed was hungry—months of quiet yearning released into the cold. Her hands knotted in his jacket, his mouth urgent, almost grateful. Neither noticed Riev, watching from inside, his hand tightening around his mug, jealousy burning bitter and bright in his chest.

Later, as the day faded, Elcor disappeared to upload photos, nursing secrets only the camera could see. Talia drifted back into the main room, wringing her hands, restless in her own skin. Riev sprawled on the sofa, notebook abandoned, boots up, pretending indifference. She hovered, then sat beside him, her thighs almost touching his. “Help me with these lyrics?” Her voice trembled, searching, trying to bridge the rift growing between all three.

He took her notebook with a practiced scowl, eyes darting over her words, softer than anyone ever saw. Their hands grazed, fingertips lingering. Talia bit her lip, nerves exposed. “You think they’re stupid?” she whispered, ready to flinch. Riev shook his head, voice honest, raw: “No. They’re brave.” Something flickered between them—a heat born of shared solace and too much unsaid.

She laughed, brushing hair from her neck. Their banter spiraled, brushstrokes of wit and sarcasm painting new, secret colors. Riev’s gaze caught on the freckle at her collarbone, the way she leaned closer as if she might fall, the way his own hand drifted perilously near hers again, knuckles brushing tentatively.

Footsteps sounded—the heavy tread of Elcor, returning too soon. Talia jerked upright, cheeks pink, Riev pulling back, walls hastily rebuilt. The fragile intimacy shattered, replaced by awkward silence. Elcor stopped in the doorway, reading the tension in the air, eyes narrowing, suspicion dawning.

Riev met his stare with that crooked, bitter smirk, but his eyes—dark, dilated—couldn’t hide the storm brewing underneath. Talia twisted the ring on her finger, caught between two men, the truth too dangerous to name.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air too thick, every look a dare or a threat. No one spoke. Outside, the snow began to fall harder, cutting off any easy escape.

In the reflection of the window, Riev watched Elcor’s hand move protectively to Talia’s lower back as she stood, as if claiming her, and felt something inside him snap, dangerously close to breaking.

To be continued...