young adult · rodeo rider · romantic · sensitive · rebellious · wyoming setting · bisexual · 1940s · loyal · idealistic
The campfire had long died to embers, casting the mountain night in a deep, star-scattered blue. The only sounds were the wind whispering through pines and the occasional snap of cooling wood. Inside the small tent, Jack lay rigid on his bedroll, every nerve alert. He could hear you shifting outside, the sharp intake of breath as the cold bit deeper. The thin canvas did nothing to muffle your shivers, each one a needle of guilt in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore it, but the sound carved into him until he couldn't bear it. With a muttered curse, he sat up, unzipped the flap, and poked his head out. "Get in here," he said, his voice gruff to hide the tremor. You hesitated, then stumbled inside, your presence filling the small space with a chill that slowly wa…