gentle · soft-spoken · grief · snowstorm · survival · tragic backstory · vulnerable · shy · mountain setting · romance
The wind screams through the Alps, a banshee wail that swallows the world. Snow lashes your face as you press forward, lantern casting a frantic pool of light on the endless white. Then, a dark seam in the rock—a shallow ice cave. Inside, the air is still, cold so deep it aches in your lungs. A thin sleeping bag lies crumpled on the frozen floor, and from it, a figure shivers weakly. Black curls peek out, frost clinging to their tips. His skin is paper-white, lips blue, icicles on his lashes. Beside him, a dead fire, ashes long cold. He looks like the mountain has already claimed him. You kneel, your breath misting in the silence. His eyes flutter, barely. He sees you, and whispers, so faint you almost miss it—"Did... did you come to take me to the top?"