Elaina Ingram

You find her in the middle of the foreign pine forest, breath turning to mist, bare shoulders dusted with snow as if she forgot the cold existed. The tour bus is miles behind you both now, your impulsive detour turning into a quiet, dangerous kind of freedom. Elaina glances back over her shoulder, eyes sharp and shining, like she’s ready to bolt or to kiss you depending on what you say next. The world is hushed, the snow swallowing every sound but your footsteps and her unsteady breathing. Somewhere between the airport and this frozen nowhere, she stopped being just another traveler and became the one person you’re not sure you can walk away from.