“Okay, Rune. Have a nice night,” I said, turning to take my leave.

“Wait!” He stepped after me, “I’m headed this direction too! Let’s walk together. Gods know I could use your protection.” He chuckled at himself, but trailed off as he caught sight of my furrowed brow.

“I’d prefer to walk alone,” I said, my voice clipped.

“Well… I could just walk behind you?” He fell into step. Two sets of boots crunched in the frozen layer of snow on the street as we walked in silence. Every so often Arcturas turned to check behind us, keeping Rune a comfortable distance away.

“The festival really was something, don’t you think?” he called up to me.

“Yes. It was quite nice.”

“I think I may have had one too many cinnamon pies though.” He chuckled again. Grumbling, I stopped walking to turn back at him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Rune?” I snapped.

“Just making conversation?” He eyed me innocently, flashing a toothy grin. Dimples appeared at each corner of his mouth and I couldn’t help but notice how perfectly straight his teeth were. The geometrics of his features, now more defined by the clear moonlight, were sharp and straight. He had high cheekbones and prominent eyebrows that wiggled as he grinned. Nearly a giant, the man towered over me with broad shoulders and arms muscular from years of manual labor. Something warmed beneath my cheeks and I tore my gaze away from him before the feeling grew.

“Well don’t,” I said, stomping back up the street. We were only two blocks from the tavern now.

“Alright then. Can I at least get your name?” he asked, continuing to trail behind me.

“Ell.” One block away.

“How about your companion here?” He pointed towards Arcturas who, in reply, snapped at his index finger. Jerking his hand back, he tucked them into the pockets of his trousers and threw her a sheepish shrug.

“Arcturas.” Nearly there. I could see the flickers of the candles in the tavern windows.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you both! It’s nice to have someone to chat with on the walk home, especially after a night such as this,” he said, brushing back the golden brown hair that fell lazily above his brow. Finally, I reached the tavern’s knotted front door.

“This is me,” I said, pulling open the door.

“You’re staying at Frya’s place? She’s a lovely old woman… if you’re on her good side, of course,” Rune said, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

“Why do you say that?” With one foot over the threshold, I turned back towards the honey-brown haired man now leaning against the lamppost.

“Oh, um..,” he trailed off thoughtfully, “I’ve heard she keeps a tight ship of that tavern of hers. I myself haven’t been, but you know. City folk talk.” He looked at his feet, scuffing a leather boot through the light dusting of snow now accumulating on the sidewalk.

Scanning his face, I noticed a faint glimmer bouncing off the sharp arches of his brow. Interesting. The way his skin seemed to shimmer in the coldness of the night was intriguing. The way his cheeks dimpled slightly as he smiled was somehow familiar. The way his eyes rounded as he spoke, depthless brown with flecks of amber scattering warmth in the paleness of the night, put me at ease. My chest softened. It felt easy to trust his gentle demeanor.

If I were thinking rationally, that’d make me nervous, but in the safety of the tavern’s stores, I’d locked myself away. I secured my trust beneath thick, guarded layers. Frya, with her kindness and compassion, had slowly chipped it away, but at this moment I realized just how lonely a protected heart could be. If I were thinking rationally, I would tell him to fuck off and go to bed. But I wasn’t thinking rationally. I was drunk from the night, the electric air of the festival, and the intoxicating beat of the fiddlers.

This Rune seemed innocent enough. And if he tried anything, I’d taken down animals nearly twice his size on my hunts. Something about his aura soothed the ache in my chest. Whether it be the strangeness of the night or the taste of frosted freedom, I yearned for connection. I craved a normal conversation between companions. Just for the night, I’d allow myself this freedom.

“Alright well-” he said, starting to take his leave.

“Thanks for, um, walking me home. Would you like to come in for a drink? We just got a shipment of elderberry spiced ale in. It’ll keep you warm for the rest of your walk home,” I said, pointing a thumb behind my back into the warm, dim light.

Rune continued to shuffle his feet, looking uncomfortable.

“That’s okay, you probably have someone waiting up for you at home, anyway,” I backpedaled, stepping further into the tavern.

“Oh, no no! I’d- I’d love to come in for a drink,” he stammered, stepping past me into the held-open door. Shaking the cold from his bones, he unbuttoned the navy cloak he wore and hung it beside mine in the coatroom. Smiling, I hastily reached for two glasses behind the bar and uncorked the dark purple bottle of wine. Like two teenagers sneaking through a sleeping home, we crept to a table by the hearth, smiling shyly at one another as we settled into our seats.

With a pop of the cork, hints of elderberry, clove, and cardamom tingled my nose. Handing Rune a smudged glass, I took a sip of my own, enjoying the sharpness against the back of my tongue. He sipped slowly, grinning widely. An uncomfortable silence floated between us as we both struggled to find something to say.

“You really meant it when you said it’d keep me warm the rest of my walk home,” he chuckled, a rosy pink appearing on his cheeks.

“It’s my favorite. I sneak a few bottles for myself anytime we get a shipment in. Frya pretends like she doesn’t notice, but judging by how she keeps this place, I’m sure she turns a blind eye.” I laughed, feeling the warmth of the alcohol deep in my belly.