Page 13 of Battle of Hearts

“Hey,” Mirren whispered, daring to break the silence first. Her words arrived in a voice that was soft, hesitant. She immediately mentally scolded herself for not saying more, as if therewasmore to say, let alone something that would wipe away the awkwardness.

Sawyer didn’t say anything for a moment. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, a sign that she, too, was feeling the weight of the moment.

“Hey,” Sawyer finally managed to respond a minute later, her voice rougher than she intended. She sat up, the blanket slipping off her shoulders as she reached for her discarded thermal shirt. The cold air bit into her exposed skin, bringing a stark contrast to the heat that had consumed them just several hours before. She needed the shirt—needed something to ground herself.

Mirren sat up too, pulling the sleeping bag around her shoulders. She averted eye contact as she and Sawyer both got dressed, as if she hadn’t explored every inch of Sawyer’s exposed skin with her tongue the previous night. Her hair was a tousled mess, falling in loose waves down her back, and she noticed Sawyer’s gaze fixed on it.

Inevitably, Mirren couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Sawyer as she dressed, turning her head just barely as Sawyer tugged her muscular leg through her pants and began to walk over toward the fire. It was strange, seeing Sawyer in this light—so raw, so unguarded. A far cry from the collected, sharp-witted woman she’d first met. The tension between them now felt...different. More fragile.

“So…” Mirren began, but then she paused, her lips pressing together as if she wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.So…What? Where did they go from here? Sawyer shifted awkwardly, pulling the shirt over her head and running a hand through her short, dark hair. She could feel the awkwardness settling between them, thick and tangible. She hated it—hated that something so…intense, something that had felt sorightin the moment, could now feel so uncertain.

“Look,” Sawyer started, her voice gruff as she struggled to find the right words. “About last night…”

Mirren glanced down, biting her lip. “Yeah…about that.” She exhaled deeply, her breath visible in the frigid air. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to complicate things. I mean, we were just?—”

“It’s not your fault,” Sawyer interrupted, her voice a little sharper than she meant. She rubbed the back of her neck, her nerves getting the best of her. “I’m the one who...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Mirren’s gaze shot back to her, blue eyes widening in surprise. “Known better? What’s that supposed to mean?” There was a tinge of hurt in her voice, and Sawyer inwardly cursed herself.

“I just…” Sawyer struggled, feeling like she was digging herself into a hole. “You’re under my command. We’re out here on a mission, and this—what happened—it shouldn’t have.”

Mirren’s face softened, but there was still a guardedness in her eyes. “So, you regret it?” she couldn’t help but ask. She wanted to not be hurt by that possibility, but the way her heart throbbed as she awaited an answer was an undeniable tell. It may have been impulsive, stupid…but the sex meantsomething, right? It had to be more than just sex, more than the irresponsible mistake that Sawyer’s words suggested it was.

For a few minutes, Sawyer seemed to struggle to find the right words. The longer she waited, the more the silence drove Mirren crazy. At this point, she was about to tell Sawyer not to answer at all, that the silence was telling enough, before Sawyer finally broke it.

“I don’t regret it,” Sawyer said, her voice quieter now. “I just…I don’t know what this means. For us.” Sawyer’s eyes searched hers, finding a mixture of relief and something else—something vulnerable.

“Me neither,” Mirren admitted, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. It felt as if she was saying she had lostthe load on her shoulders. “But I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t.”

Silence settled over them again, but this time it wasn’t quite as heavy. Mirren let out a small, nervous laugh, her breath misting in the cold. “This is really awkward, isn’t it?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Sawyer’s mouth. “Yeah, just a bit.”

Mirren relaxed slightly, her shoulders lowering as the tension began to ease. “Well, I guess awkward is better than ignoring it completely.”

Sawyer grunted in agreement. She stood up, adjusting her thermal pants and glancing toward the small window. The storm was still relentless, the snow coming down in thick, blinding sheets. They were still trapped—isolated—and now, the tension between them had shifted to something far more complicated.

“We should check the supplies,” Sawyer said, her voice reverting to its usual matter-of-fact tone. Mirren knew it was easier to focus on the practical, on the mission at hand, even though scenes of last night kept flickering to the front of her thoughts. “The storm doesn’t look like it’s letting up any time soon.”

Mirren nodded, pushing herself up and wrapping the blanket tighter around her before reluctantly letting it go. She dressed quickly, though her fingers were still shaking slightly from the chill—and from the lingering emotions that still hung between them.

As they worked in silence, inventorying the supplies and checking the structural integrity of the outpost, Mirren continued to sneak glances at Sawyer. She couldn’t help it. Every small movement, every quick flicker of her eyes, tugged at something inside her. She tried to push it down, but it was no use. The barrier had been broken. What happened last night hadchanged their professional relationship, and whether it was for better or worse, it was hard to decide just yet.

Sawyer seemed to sense her gaze, but instead of pulling away, she met Mirren’s eyes with a small, tentative smile. It was as if they were both testing the waters, trying to find a new equilibrium.

By the time they finished checking the last of the storage crates, the tension between them had shifted again—this time to something softer, more familiar. The awkwardness had given way to something almost comfortable, though neither of them acknowledged it out loud.

“We’ve got enough food for a few more days, but the stove’s gonna need more fuel if this storm doesn’t let up soon,” Sawyer said, closing the supply crate with a solid thud. “I’ll get more firewood from the shed.”

Mirren frowned, her brow furrowing. “I’ll come with you.”

Sawyer shook her head. “No need. I’ll be quick.”

“I’m not letting you go out there alone,” Mirren insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “We’ve already been through enough. I’m not taking any chances.”

Sawyer blinked, caught off guard by the firmness in Mirren’s voice. There was a determination in her eyes that left no room for argument, and for a moment, Sawyer felt a surge of admiration. Mirren wasn’t just the calm, analytical meteorologist she’d first met. She was fierce, stubborn, and undeniably strong.

“All right,” Sawyer said, grabbing her coat and pulling it over her shoulders. “Let’s go, then.”

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