I wrap my hand around her wrist and hold it there by my throat, wishing we weren’t wearing gloves. Too many layers between us. She stills, her breath a soft cloud in the cold air. Even in the darkness, hidden underneath the low branches, I can make out the fullness of her lips, the pink of her cold nose. “You still didn’t answer my question.” “What question?” “About your favourite audio of mine.” Her breath shudders, only making me more desperate to know. “You want to talk about this now?” “I want to talk about it until I get an answer.” “Fine,” she huffs, scooting back to lean against the
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