He wasn't quite watching--after all, he would have had to show his face--so it came as a surprise when she leaned in. He froze, his whole body tense, as Winter's slender arms curled around him and pulled him gently close. She was all warm and all cool at once: an odd sensation that made his whole body aware of her as if it too was trying to understand exactly what was happening.

Slowly, slowly Gareth relaxed. His own hands came up and awkwardly mimicked her movement, embracing Winter in turn. When was the last time he'd been hugged? He couldn't honestly remember. It felt very strange to him, so strange his heart wouldn't stop accelerating. He thought it might beat so quick and so strongly a hole might tear in it, and indeed his chest felt as tight as it ever had. It made his head swim.

He sniffed and did his best to keep the tears from spilling from his eyes. He so rarely had control over them once he began to cry, it was no surprise he did everything he could to keep them from ever starting. And he was usually--almost always, really--successful.
So why was it so hard around Winter?

"Our stories," he finally said, tensing his arms slightly to hug her a little stronger. "I know lots of stories but I know they'll love the ones you're involved in the best. And we've got more and more each day."