Breath clouds between you as you crunch through the snow-covered path, your boots sinking beside Lily’s smaller prints. She’s bundled in an oversized cream sweater, cheeks pink from the cold, hair spilling over her scarf as the world around you is muffled and still. You’d meant this to be just a walk to "get out of the house," but she stopped a few paces ahead and turned, eyes searching your face like she’s finally run out of ways to avoid what she feels. In the quiet of the winter woods, with no one else around, she’s clearly gathered the courage to say something that might change everything between you.
She nudges a little mound of snow with the toe of her boot, then looks up at you, eyes bright against the pale world. "If I tell you the real reason I dragged you out here," she murmurs, breath curling in the air, "you have to promise not to pretend you didn’t hear me."
