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Catching a flight on Christmas Eve was terrible at the best of times, considering it was one of the most expensive and busy dates to fly. Throw in a toddler kicking the back of her seat, some terrifying turbulence, and a two hour delay due to a snowstorm, and, well, Sydney was ready to write off flying altogether.
She didn't make the trip home to her parents’ very often - once or twice a year at most. They lived in the sort of small town where everyone knew everyone and gossip spread like wildfire. It was something she'd never minded growing up until that fateful New Year’s Eve when all the eyes in the room landed on her and the laughter had felt deafening. So when she was offered an internship with a publishing company in the city, the fact that the boy who was both the object of her desire and the cause of her humiliation lived next door made it only more appealing to leave. Years had passed since then and he’d moved across town, but somehow during her visits their paths always seemed to cross, and it would feel like his rejection happened only yesterday.
When the plane finally landed, Sydney made her way to baggage claim and collected her heavy suitcase. She'd only packed enough clothes to get her through the holidays, but her bag was stuffed to the brim with neatly-wrapped presents. She couldn't wait to hug her parents before driving back to her childhood home for hot chocolate and homemade cookies in front of the fire. It was going to be a peaceful and cosy Christmas, just the three of them.
With a big smile on her face, she rounded the corner to the arrivals terminal and stopped in her tracks.
No way.
No fucking way.
She was back for all of five seconds and the first person she saw was Bruno fucking Kaminski of all people.
Then he saw her too, and his stupid handsome face lit up in recognition. When his lips spread into a wide smile, her eyes zeroed in on the dimples that used to make her weak at the knees.
Emphasis on used to.
Yeah… Definitely used to.
"Sydney, hey!" he called, beginning to cross the short distance to meet her.
It was too late to pretend she hadn't seen him, but she wasn't above doing it anyway. At a glance, her parents were nowhere to be seen, so she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and made a bee-line for the exit, praying they were waiting outside instead.
They weren't, and in a matter of seconds he caught up with her, reaching for her arm as she stepped out into the light flurry of snow. Turning, she scowled as she looked at him, and he dropped his hand immediately. He'd bleached the tips of his hair since she'd last seen him. On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous, like some nineties throwback gone wrong, but somehow he pulled it off. The blonde drew attention to his eyes, making them a more intense shade of blue.
He always could make anything look hot.
Fucking prick.
"What do you want, Bruno?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Merry Christmas to you, too."
"Look, I've had a really awful flight, so get it over with and say whatever you've got to say, then leave me alone."
"It's going to be difficult to do that, considering I'm your ride home," he said with a smirk, and she rolled her eyes.
"No, you're not."
"I am. I was at my mum's when yours popped round and mentioned your flight was delayed. The turkey was already in the oven, and your dad was late for his shift, so-"
She scoffed. "You wanna get to the punchline?"
"Er..?"
"Because you're joking, right? Please tell me you are."
"'Course not. You know if I was, you'd be laughing," he shot back with a cocky grin.
Sydney placed a hand on her hip. "Don't be so sure about that - you're not as funny as you think you are."
Hurt flickered in his eyes like a flame in the wind as he took the handle of her suitcase. "Come on, you can carry on hating me in the car. I’d like to get back before the storm really hits."
Once they were buckled in, Bruno put on the Santa hat that was hanging over the steering wheel.
"Are you seriously wearing that?" she asked, and he sighed.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing. Just seems a shame to cover the frosted tips."
"Yeah?" Perking up a bit, he took the hat off and ran his hand through his ruffled hair. "Thought it'd be cool if my hair matched the weather."
Despite herself, her lips twitched upward. Then he reached forward, pulling the hat over her long, chocolate brown hair before she could protest.
"Looks better on you anyway." He winked and started the engine.
It was so typical of Bruno to try and act like they were still best friends. Like he hadn't gotten a kick out of purposefully embarrassing her in front of a room full of people. As they drove out of the industrial surroundings of the airport into miles and miles of snow-covered forest, he made casual small-talk by asking her questions. How was life in the big city? Great. Was she still working for the same publishing company? Yes. Would she ever consider moving back to town? Probably not; other than her parents, there was nothing for her here.
After glancing at her with an unreadable expression, he switched the radio on and tuned it to a channel playing Christmas songs. She thought he'd finally got tired of dragging conversation out of her, but then he asked in a clipped voice, "Still seeing that French lad, then?"
She narrowed her green eyes at him. "How do you know about Youcef?"
Staring hard through the windscreen, he frowned and turned the wipers up a setting to clear the rapidly falling snow. "Your dad came to one of my comedy nights a while ago. I bought him a pint after to say thanks, and it came up."
"... That's weird. Don't do that."
There was a short pause before he scoffed. "Sorry for being nice to your dad - next time, I'll tell him to do one instead."
"If it means you won't talk about me behind my back, then fine."
He scowled. "Nah. Just because
you’ve
decided you don’t want shit to do with me anymore, doesn't mean I have to stop being mates with him too," he retorted, and then cursed under his breath. “
Shit.
It’s getting heavier.”
Sure enough, the snow was falling in spades. Pelting down so fast that they could hardly see ten feet in front of them even with the full beams on and the wipers working overtime.
"How much further?" Sydney asked as the car slowed to a crawl.
"I'm not sure, it's hard to tell. It's been slow going and everything looks the same."
A few seconds later, they came to a halt. The car revved loudly - once, twice, three times - but nothing happened. Bruno's knuckles were white as he floored the accelerator a final time for good measure, and when the car skidded a little to the side, Sydney gasped and gripped the edge of her seat.
He put the handbrake on and switched off the engine. "We're stuck. We're going to have to get out and walk the rest of the way."
Sydney huffed and unbuckled her seat belt. "Great! As if this day couldn't get any worse. You've had some brilliant ideas in the past, but driving through a snowstorm only to get stuck on the road might be your best one!"
He groaned. "Don't start, Sydney. It's not my fault your flight was delayed."
"Yeah, well, if you hadn't picked me up-"
"You'd be stuck at the airport."
"It would have been better than freezing my arse off with you," she snapped, getting out of the car.
He did the same and slammed the door shut. "Chill out, Ice Queen - or should I say thaw out?"
The wind blew harshly around her face, and she glared at him over the roof of the car and through the falling snow. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"
"What's that supposed-"
"Bruno Kaminski, class clown-turned-fucking comedian, at it again with the bloody jokes!"
Walking to the boot of his car, he gave an aggravated sigh and dragged a hand over his face. "Fuck me. When you moved away, did you leave your sense of humour behind too?"
With an infuriated shriek, Sydney scooped up some snow and hurled it at him.
It hit him square in the chest. A white powdery dot against the black of his winter coat. He glanced down at himself then back at her furious yet satisfied face. "Did you- did you just throw a snowball at me?"
"Yes. And what?" She readjusted the Santa hat over her dark hair and turned to walk off down the road. Suddenly there was an impact at the top of her back, and an explosion of cold cascaded across her neck. Whirling in place, she cried, "Bruno!"
"You started it," he replied, throwing another at her. She ducked behind a tree as he gathered more handfuls of snow, shrieking when they started raining down on either side of her.
She stooped down to prepare her attack. "Oh, it's on, Kaminski!"
A battle ensued. They chased each other from tree to tree, screaming and laughing, dodging and weaving, running further into the woods. Bruno had better aim and could make snowballs faster, but Sydney was better at hiding, timing her attacks for when he least suspected it.
A perfect throw hit Bruno in the side of the neck, falling inside his clothes. "Ah! Cold- cold!" he yelped, jumping up and down, fanning the fabric to shift the ice away from his skin.
Arms full with snowballs, Sydney slowly walked toward him with a menacing smile and prepared her aim. "Do you surrender, Jack Frost?"
Giggling, he backed away. "Wait, wait-"
"Victory waits for snowman!" she cried, maniacally laughing as she threw them all at once. Then, realising she'd run out of ammo, she turned on her heel and sprinted the other way.
"You better run - hell will freeze over before I let you win," he shouted. Seconds later, his arms wrapped around her middle, and she screamed as she was lifted off the ground. "Ha ha ha! I came, I thaw, I conquered!"
Then his footing slipped and, falling backwards, they both tumbled into the snow. As she fell on him, the air was knocked out of his lungs with an 'oof'. After a moment, she rolled off him, lying on the snow beside him. She giggled through panted breaths. "Oh my god, Bruno, are you okay?"
He nodded with a small smile on his lips. His baby blues gazed at her softly as he reached out to brush some snow from her cheek, murmuring, "I've missed this. Us. Haven't you?"
Yes. More than he could ever know. More than she would admit to herself. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and she was reminded of all the other times she'd wanted to kiss him. Like when they were twelve and they hung out for the first time, just the two of them, eating ice cream by the lake. A few years later when he stood up for her in the school canteen when Dylan had been spreading rumours. When they danced together during their year thirteen prom.
New Years Eve when she'd finally worked up the nerve to ask.
"Maybe at midnight, if you wanted, you could kiss me?"
It was just her luck the music cut out at that exact moment. She'd never forget how he glanced at everyone watching, with a glass held to his lips, then laughed. "Maybe after twelve more drinks."
Everything she thought she knew about him shattered along with her heart. But still, she didn't hate him. Never had, never would. It just made her feel less vulnerable when she acted like she did.
Sydney shivered. At first, she thought it was due to their proximity. Then it happened again, bringing her back to the reality of their situation. They were surrounded by snow - and covered in it - with more falling by the minute. She moved off him and looked around, seeing nothing but trees and white. The car was nowhere to be seen.
"Do you- you know the way back to the road, don't you?" she asked, huddling her arms around the middle of her coat. Over the howling wind, she could hear the sound of crunching and swishing behind her as Bruno stood up and dusted himself off. She turned, finding him examining their surroundings with a worried frown. "Please tell me you do."
"Um… I'll check Google maps, it'll be alright." He pulled his phone out his coat pocket and she did the same. "Fuck. No signal. You?"
"I’ve got nothing too. Are we lost? We're lost, aren't we?"
"We'll be fine, but we can't stay here. We need to pick a direction and keep our eyes peeled."
"But it's getting dark already, and- Oh my God, we're going to freeze!"
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Sydney. I promise," he said, holding his hand out for her to take. "If we stick together, we'll be okay."
She hesitated before slipping her hand in his.
A few hours later, the sun had set what felt like an eternity ago. They must have picked the wrong direction, because they were still walking hand in hand through the forest, keeping the moon to their left, because Bruno thought that town was supposed to be north. The snow had slowed down a bit and a luminescent glow broke through the clouded night sky, reflecting all around them - it was something to be thankful for; at least they didn't have to navigate their way in the pitch dark.
They were both shivering uncontrollably now. Their voices shook as they tried to take their mind off their situation by talking about nothing in particular - their old friends, what had changed in the town, Sydney's favourite places to go in the city. For a while they settled on talking about TV, discussing whether Nick and Jess were finally going to get together in New Girl, the funniest memes from The Office and what happened on Shameless last week. It reminded her a little of when they used to walk home together. Back when she felt like she could talk to him about anything and everything, and they'd laugh and joke until their houses came into view. There was always something awkward about that final stretch. He'd suddenly become shy, shuffling his feet as he lingered at the bottom of her drive, looking like he wanted to tell her something. She never found out what it was.
The fact they were currently holding hands was laughable. How many times had she hopefully brushed her little finger against his? And how many times had he not noticed or plain ignored her altogether? Now, the only warm place on her body was where her palm and fingertips were connected to him… and it didn't mean a thing.
"What are you thinking about?" Sydney asked after a lull in conversation, needing a distraction from how numb her toes were.
Bruno licked his lips. "I'm wondering who covered me tonight. I was meant to be hosting a festive open mic at the comedy club - but it's whatever, I would have been cutting it fine anyway."
"I still don't get why you agreed to pick me up. I'm not saying that to be a dick, it just might have been better for both of us if I stayed at the airport after all," she said, shrugging. "But hindsight is twenty-twenty I guess."
Holding a tree branch back, he smiled at her. "And let you have a Greggs sausage roll for Christmas dinner? Never."
She laughed. "Fuck, now I'm thinking about how lush that would be right now. Imagine if someone handed you one fresh out of the oven. Warm, flaky pastry. Heaven."
"Or a steaming bowl of porridge, topped with apple slices and a drizzle of peanut butter."
"I love that you're still obsessed with porridge."
"Not just any porridge, Bruno's-"
"Bruno's Bangin' Porridge, yeah." She smiled. "I remember. It looked so gross but it tasted delicious."
"I've improved on my presentation since then. I could make some for you when we get back?" He looked at her softly and squeezed her hand. "Or not. But either way, soon we'll be warm and celebrating Christmas with our families, and…" He sighed. "A few days later you'll be back with your boyfriend, a thousand miles away from idiots like me."
Sydney pressed her lips together. "He's not my boyfriend. We broke up."
"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that," he said, though he didn't sound saddened by the news.
She shrugged. "It was a while ago, and being with him didn't feel right. It never does, not when I've still got feelings for..."
As she trailed off, Bruno stopped in his tracks, turning to her with a funny look on his face. His eyes were shining, on the verge of happy tears. "I- I can’t believe it."
Suddenly, he let go of her hand, sprinting toward the hazy shadow of a small wooden cabin in the distance.
"Sydney, come on, we're saved!"
—-
After clearing the snow from the cabin door, they hurried inside. Sydney fumbled around for a light switch but the power was out, so they used the torches on their phones instead. There was a small make-shift kitchen with some tinned food and a bottle of water, a single armchair by a wood-burner fireplace as well as a tiny bathroom in what they originally thought was a closet.
Bruno got to work on starting the fire while Sydney looked about some more, finding a small stack of wilderness survival books by the legs of the armchair. There was also a compass, a map of the local area, and a notebook belonging to a Henrik Bergström.
"Never heard of him," Bruno commented when she read out his name. "If we're near the lake though, maybe he knows something about the swamp monster that's been making the papers." He gasped. "Or what if it's him?!"
She laughed. "Then the swamp man has totally saved us… though it looks like we're still a few miles out from town."
"We should stay the night. In the morning we can use the map and the compass to get us home."
Bruno finally figured out how to get the fire going, and warmth along with an amber glow immediately flooded the room. They were both completely soaked to the skin, so they took off their soggy coats, then Bruno peeled off his wet jumper and jeans, and- holy fuck , had he been hitting the gym? Wait, no, those muscles looked functional, so it was more likely he got those biceps from lifting kegs at the comedy club. Somehow that was even hotter, and it made Sydney wonder if he could lift her too - he could, he'd done it earlier, but what about if her legs were wrapped around his-
"Sydney?"
"Mmm, yeah?"
"You're staring."
She snapped her eyes back up to his face. Oh great, he was smirking. She looked away. "This is weird, isn't it?"
"A little. I'll turn around until your clothes dry if it'll make you more comfortable."
"I don't mind," she replied with a shrug. "You've seen me in a bikini thousands of times. It's basically the same as underwear anyway."
"Yeah, I guess," he replied, though once she stripped down to her underwear, the way his Adam's apple bobbed told her he disagreed. He ran a hand through his hair. "God, you're beautiful, Sydney."
She wished she could believe he really thought that. Her mouth twisted and she folded her arms over her chest. "Don't, Bruno."
"Sorry," he said, turning to face the fire, then rushed to add, "Not for calling you beautiful, because you are. Really beautiful. Gorgeous. I've always thought so, but-"
"Are you drunk?" She laughed bitterly. "Never took you for a drunk driver."
His head started to move in her direction before he jerked it back. "What? No, why are you asking me that?"
"Thought you couldn't find me attractive unless you had twelve drinks."
He stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long amount of time. When he did turn, his blue eyes had turned grey and his lips were pressed into a thin line. He was barely audible over the crackling fire.
"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he asked. It wasn't an accusation; he sounded completely dejected.
She shook her head. "It was the most humiliating moment of my life."
"And the biggest regret of mine," he admitted. "I've spent the last few years wondering what my life would have been like if I just kissed you at midnight."
Sydney willed her stupid heart to calm down; this was probably just another one of his jokes. It was determined to ignore her, clinging to a spark of hope that only grew bigger with every word that fell from his lips.
"I'm so sorry, Sydney. Everyone was staring, you'd caught me off guard, and I- I was so fucking nervous, it was like my brain malfunctioned. My best friend and the prettiest girl I'd ever met had just asked to kiss me, and like a fucking div, I go and crack a joke about needing Dutch courage. The next thing I knew, you ran out and I realised what I said. How it sounded. I never meant it that way; that's not me."
Sydney could hardly believe what he was saying. He looked so serious. He was serious.
"W-why didn't you say anything back then? If I'd known, I-"
"You don't think I tried?" He walked over to the armchair, collapsing into it in defeat. " Jesus . You made it your life's mission to swerve me. I was blocked on everything, and you were never home anymore, then suddenly you were gone - off doing your internship in the city. I got the message. I'd blown it. My chance was gone… my best friend too. And every time you come back, it's so obvious you hate me."
"I don't hate you," she said softly, lowering her arms to her middle. "I just thought if I pretended to, it might help me get over you."
Sitting up straighter, his eyes flickered over her face. "Did it work?"
"No… so I was a bitch for no reason, sorry," she replied, laughing nervously. Her gaze shifted around the room. It landed on the clock; it was eleven-thirty. She took a leaf out of his book and made a half-joke to ease her own awkwardness. "Hey, maybe when it's Christmas , if you wanted, you could kiss me?"
She heard the chair creek as he got up, and their gazes locked. In three determined paces, he was standing in front of her.
"I'd rather kiss you now," he said, cupping her jaw. Then his lips were on hers, and the spark of hope inside her chest burst into a supernova, burning any remaining hurt or doubt in its wake.
His hand slid to the back of her neck, the other to her waist. She melted into his embrace, pressing their bodies together and winding her fingers into his hair.
It was everything. Sweet, yet full of passion. The release of longing and the knowledge that one kiss would never be enough.
They broke apart for a second, before Bruno pressed another kiss to her lips, smiling as he did so. His hand trailed down her forearm, before he linked their fingers together.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he said, baby blues sparkling. "Rehearsed that line in my head and everything. It's what I've always wished I'd said."
Sydney brushed their mouths together again and murmured, "Very smooth. I'm glad you had it prepared. Now I can finally cross that off my Christmas list."
Bruno laughed and tugged her arm gently as he walked back toward the armchair with a gorgeous dimpled grin. "What do you say we get cosy by the fire? Santa's already given you his hat, I bet he'd even let you sit on his knee."
Sydney smiled, thankful he'd picked her up after her flight had been delayed. There was no one she'd rather be stuck in a snowstorm with.