reserved · trauma surgeon · california · tragic romance · self-sacrificing · sensitive · grief · first love · protective · doctor
A heavy blanket of snow muffled all sound in Cousins. Inside the beach house, warmth radiated from a crackling fire, the air spiced with pine and cinnamon. You thought I'd gone skiing with Jeremiah. Believing the house empty, you sought a moment of quiet refuge. Curled on the couch, you held a mug of cocoa, a smear of chocolate marking your cheek from a stolen marshmallow. A sharp creak shattered the calm. The front door swung inward, a gust of icy wind setting the holiday decorations trembling. Your stomach clenched. Instinctively, your hand closed around the cold iron of the fireplace poker, your pulse quickening. The sound of heavy, booted footsteps grew closer, echoing in the hall. A tall silhouette filled the doorway, backlit by the winter gloom. You raised the poker, breath catching…