[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/ymM3DTVb/ace.webp[/img][/center]

[center] [youtube]https://youtu.be/FN4ZLmjavJg?si=ZsiumEhw4quiY5hJ[/youtube]
[indent][sub][color=f7941d]And I will move on…[/color][/sub][/indent][/center]

[color=f7941d][I]‘How could she be here?’[/I][/color] Was the first thought to run through Ace’s mind as a familiar face flashed past him. His heart skipped a beat as the air caught in his throat. His initial reaction could have been mistaken for nervousness, but even still, he held the beautiful woman’s suggestive gaze. Unmistakably intentional. [color=f7941d][I]‘It couldn’t be…’[/I][/color] He looked over his shoulder, analyzing Blair’s face as relief washed over him. It wasn’t [I]her[/I], just the closest thing [I]to[/I] her.

That look.
That jacket.
That silhouette.
Slender, but godly.

The style, the presence, even the confidence. But this woman’s gaze was sharper, more playful, less guarded, but with the same habit of holding eye contact just a second too long. Something deep tugged at his heart, something unresolved. He was drawn in by something that wasn’t quite desire, and wasn’t quite a memory—but lived somewhere in between. His own jet black eyes showed no emotion, nor intention, nor would he let it. He was sure this wasn’t his last time seeing her, so an introduction wasn’t important now. Getting warm was. Ace looked away, pulling the hood further over his head as he headed forward.

A wooden staircase led up the hill, crooked and splintered, each step groaning under its own weight. No birds perched on the railing. No insects buzzed in the air. The cabin was untouched by life. Ace thought he could break the steps at a moment’s notice, or his own ankle for that matter. He took a glance back at the base, a rickety dock jutting over a black, glassy creek. The water was still – too still – and beneath its surface lay a bed of smooth, round stones—as if the forest buried something long ago and simply waited for the world to forget. Ace continued his ascent. The air was thick with dust and cold inside, suffocating the silence. Motes drift like ash through the air, illuminated by the light seeping through the cracks of the floor. The floors creak and weigh with every step – not in protest - but as if the house was alerting something deeper within. The walls seemed to lean inward, as though the entire cabin was collapsing around him, inch by inch. The living room was barren. No signs of previous life. Just a single chair, worn and sagging, set before a dead fireplace almost as if inviting him forward. As if someone, or something, knew exactly what he needed. Almost as if the cabin did not welcome visitors, but remembered them.

[color=f7941d][I]‘Better than nothing.’[/I][/color] Ace thought before sitting in the surprisingly comfortable chair. A faint smell of burned wood lingered as Ace struck a match. The first broke. The second hissed, flaring to life in a quick flare of warmth and light. It cascades his face with flickering gold. He touched it to the small kindlings of dry twigs and brittle bark. The fire caught slowly, reluctantly curling into life with soft crackles. It casts jagged shadows across the cabin walls, hungrily stretching upward. Warmth spilled out in cautious waves as he shivered violently, as if the sudden warmth reminded him of how cold he actually was. He leaned closer to the fire, almost too close, letting the heat sear into his bones as he peeled the hoodie off and tossed it aside. The fabric slapped wetly against the floorboards.

[color=f7941d][I]’I miss you, ya’ old-coot…’[/I][/color] Ace pulled out a beaded bracelet, with a cross dangling from it. His uncle wore it everyday, and it was placed into his hand the moment he passed. The crowbar hit made him forget about it, and was lucky to still be holding it. A few of the beads were chipped, one missing entirely. Ace ran his thumb across them slowly, one by one, counting the prayers he never learned how to say. Ace wondered if it mattered. God, religion, heaven, hell… Ace knew heaven was a long shot for the majority of the Crimson Piston’s, but his uncle never gave up his belief. But now they were playing under different rules. Ace just hoped those rules were more kind to him and his family.

Ace squeezed the bracelet tight. His fingers trembled. His chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. Glassy and distant, his eyes were fixed on the bracelet as memories surged through him. The fire crackled again, louder this time. His uncle’s laugh was rough, but warm. The smell of the fireplace even reminded him of his uncle’s scent—wood smoke and motor oil. He always knew the right thing to say, or the right time to say nothing at all. What would he do now?

That’s when the facade broke. The things he’d been holding back like floodwaters behind a cracking dam released; The first sob was raw and strangled, like something torn from his throat escaping. Ace doubled over, the bracelet pressed against his forehead. The firelight caught tears spilling freely down his cheeks. His shoulders shook as the sobs came faster, deeper, shaking his entire body like the cold only wished to. There was no one there to comfort him. Just the fire, and the ghosts the cabin held in its walls. The sound of grief was louder than the fire. Louder than the wind screaming outside. It was the sound of something unraveling; a cry not just for a man lost, but for the pieces of Ace that had died with him.

The bracelet, now wet with tears, clutched in shaking hands that didn’t want to let go.