Snowflakes dusted turquoise curls as I shielded her from the chilly air with my chest.
The position was familiar.
Back at Elite Academy, she’d clutched onto my arm for hours in the black sea, hanging off my shoulders as she quivered from exhaustion. Her arms had tightened around my neck as I’d hauled her across the rocky shore to safety, and we’d fallen asleep cuddled together on a broken cot.
In the present, snow kissed her rosy cheeks. Frost clung to her cheekbones like decoration.
Her breaths came out in dainty puffs of ice, and I stared, enraptured by the graceful column of her pale neck and the slight ripple of her pulse.
She looked like a dream.
Her existence provided me with a shelter from the world, and just like my twin, she was home.
When we were finally back in the warmth of our room, I cupped the back of her curly head protectively and laid her onto her designated bunk bed.
She sighed with relief.
Unlacing her combat boots, I gently tugged them off her feet and pulled the covers up over her chest.
I brushed a curl off her forehead.
Dark lashes fluttered.
John leaned against me, and I relished his proximity. Together we watched her. The bonds of brotherhood and love strummed between us like a golden ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.
Slowly, John kissed his three fingers, then pressed them against Aran’s flushed cheek. He kissed me on my cheek, then climbed up to his top bunk.
I stood frozen.
Emotional.
Overwhelmed.
Tucking Aran’s feet underneath her blankets, I climbed into my bunk above hers with one arm hanging down toward her like I did every night since we’d moved into the war camp.
Delicate fingers tangled with mine. Cold and pale contrasted with warm olive skin.
Even half-asleep, Aran had reached for my hand.
The position was uncomfortable for both of us, but neither of us could sleep without the other’s touch.
I exhaled tension. Compulsion turned into something warm, something new and precious.
“Sleep well, brother,” John whispered from above. “I’m grateful for every day that we get to spend together.”
My voice cracked as I responded, “Every day together is a blessing—I will never leave your sides again.” I’d survived the hellfire of separation, and now life beside them felt like a dream.
“Eternally,” he murmured.
It didn’t matter that we were going to war. Unlike other people, I never got caught up in circumstances. It was the people closest to you that made up your life. Period.
Other people never seemed to understand that.
Dainty fingers curled against my palm in agreement.
The narrow bunk above me creaked as John draped both his long arms off the front of his bed and buried his hands in my hair.
Every night, the three of us slept contorted in awkward positions.
