Page 82 of Untouchable

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The sun haslong set when Parker finds himself going a little stir-crazy. Harp is engrossed in a book of Japanese fables he’d said he found at a thrift store, and he looks content to stay there all night, lost in his book and nursing a glass of whiskey. For a while, Parker has been happy to simply be with Harp, occupying himself playing dumb games on his phone and sending cryptic texts to Mindy to infuriate her. The stillness in the cabin isn’t awkward at all.

He doesn’t wish he were home, because this feels like home.

He’s restless, though—his body is incapable of staying in one place for too long. Harp reading fairy tales is so adorable Parker’s heart is seizing up, and he’s been working hard not to disturb him, but he can’t help himself. He goes to the window, a blanket wrapped around him though the room is plenty warm enough, and looks out.

“Holy shit, Harp, come look.”

The cloud cover has cleared at last, and the moon is almost completely full. The whole world is silver and navy and black and gray, bleak and breathtaking and beautiful all at once. Beyond the back fence, Parker can make out the tracks they’d made that morning, and he has the urgent desire to be out again, in the stillness and the moonlight, with Harp at his side.

* * *

Harp has been waitingto get irritated with Parker, or to be tired of having him in the house. He knew what he was signing up for, after all, when he'd practically pulled Parker inside instead of looking for a different solution.

But it hasn't happened. He hasn't found himself frustrated with Parker, and other than the few moments when things had gotten tense, it was all too easy to slot Parker into his daily life.

He joins Parker at the window when he's called, peering out but not really sure what he's supposed to be looking at.

"What's up?"

“Look—” Parker says, tapping on the glass. Harp does as he’s told, then glances back at Parker, then glances back out.

“Is there an animal?” he asks.

“No,” Parker says. “I mean, well, maybe, I dunno but—it’s just—really gorgeous.”

Harp nods. Parker is right, of course, but he sounds more excited than Harp would expect for someone who had been born and raised in Colorado.

“Let’s go outside,” Parker said excitedly. “Let’s, like, hike or something. And go look at the stars. If we bundle up, it won’t be that cold.”

* * *

He beams up at Harp,flashing his most irresistible smile.

"You really want to go out in this?"

Parker just keeps nodding.

"We don't even have warm clothes for you..."

"Please Harp? I was fine with the stuff I was wearing earlier today." He bats his eyelashes.

"Well, it'll all be big on you, but I'm sure I have enough stuff to keep you warm..."

“Yes,” Parker cheers. “I promise you it’ll be worth it.”

Harp still looks dubious, and he spends an inordinate amount of time shoving scarves and gloves and hats and socks at Parker. Parker can’t help laughing at Harp’s overprotective streak—it’s nice to feel cared for, even if Harp is being a littleridiculous.

When they get outside, Harp waits as Parker squints through the darkness at the valley.

“If I lead, can you get us back?” Parker asks.

* * *

"Absolutely,"Harp says. His eyes are adjusting to the dimmer light, but the landscape is lit up and glittering between the snow and the moon. He could navigate the valley in his sleep.

He's already glad they came outside. Harp has always felt vaguely foolish about how much he's entranced by snow. His Floridian upbringing is too obvious in Colorado, where the snow is treated as a nuisance.

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