Whit Coutell / Reader - Part 4
You slipped into a comfortable unconsciousness as your soaking wet clothes started to freeze slowly due to the below zero temperatures. You had a dream that you were taking a warm long bath and then crawled into your own bed to sleep. You felt fully relaxed and numb but the numbness did not bother you because it meant that at least nothing hurt and you didn't feel cold. Suddenly a tall form appeared in your dream. It was a man but you did not know the identity of the guy. However you assumed that it was Whit who then proceeded to throw snow at your face and didn't stop when you told him to leave you alone. The man even shone a light straight into your eyes and disturbed your rest while telling you that you were obligated to wake up.
You woke up, blinked a few times as you recoiled into full consciousness and realized that you were still in the forest, dressed in your soaking wet and now partially frozen winter clothes and snow was falling onto your face as a squirrel ran on the branches above you. The moon had reappeared as it had moved to the other side of the mountain peak and illuminated the forest eerily, its silver rays blinding your eyes that had already gotten used to darkness. The stars still shone brightly above you and nothing disturbed the peaceful but somehow ominous silence. You stared at the sky, expecting to see steam from your exhales but there was none - you had a severe hypothermia but for some reason you were still alive and now fully aware of your surroundings.
- Fuck! you screamed at the universe because you were genuinely disappointed to still be here, trapped in this nightmare and not in your own warm bed like you had been just a moment ago, well, mentally at least... but even a hallucination or a vivid dream was better than the reality. Basically anything was better than this! Your voice was broken and your throat hurt when you yelled curse words to the skies while lying on your back on the snow. You were alive which meant that you were kind of obligated to continue fighting for survival when actually that was the last thing you would have wanted to do.
In fact, if it had been up to you and just about you, you would have said 'that's it, I give up', closed your eyes and drifted away but the thing was, it wasn't just about you; as long as you were alive, you were somewhat responsible for Whit's survival and since that guy was an idiot, at least when it came to survival related things, you couldn't just willingly and deliberately give up. Now, if you passed out due to hypothermia, there was nothing you could do about it - it was beyond your control... but if you passed out, woke up and still had some strength left in you to get yourself going... well, that was a completely another situation.
And it was exactly the situation you were in right now; you were alive and even though you felt numb and exhausted, somehow you knew that you were not completely done yet and it meant that you had to try at least. Besides, if you failed, no one could blame you for it, right? You decided to give it a shot and therefore you rolled yourself from your back to your stomach, every and even the smallest movements requiring a terrible amount of effort, took a few deep breaths while lying there, your face pressed against the freezing snow and then, you started to push yourself up on your all fours. At first you couldn't feel anything, your body was too numb for any discomfort to register and to be honest, your limbs felt stiff and limp at the same time, nearly impossible to control, but then your circulation returned and the numbness instantly changed into a burning sensation. Oh boy did it sting! It felt like your body had been poked with thousands of needles, especially your hands when they sank into the snow because the snowbank's frozen surface layer beneath you shattered like glass as you shifted your weight.
You managed to push yourself up on your feet eventually, leaning onto a tree next to you for some much-needed support and filled your lungs with the freezing air a couple of times as you tried to get yourself adjusted to the pain that was getting worse and constant now. You grabbed the drinking bottle from the ground and started to follow your own footsteps back to the cottage. It was not an easy task because the snow kept breaking beneath you and then you had to get up once more, every repeat draining your energy and willpower almost exponentially.
Besides, even though the moon lit the forest quite well, you knew that the cottage would be difficult to spot without the flashlight. Hell, earlier you had managed to notice it because the light had reflected from the window and now, having lost the flashlight when you had fallen into the river, it would be very hard to find the snow-covered shack. You had the footsteps that you could follow, sure, but you had crisscrossed quite a lot in the forest before finding the stream and every time you fell, you got a little bit more disoriented and couldn't say for sure which way was forward and which way was backwards. Normally it would have been easy to tell but currently the hypothermia was seriously messing up with your brain and making you confused.
Finally you saw a dark structure in the forest and when you looked more closely, you noticed faint warm yellow glow that contrasted the cold eerie bluish light surrounding you. You forced yourself to run towards the warm light and took a shortcut through some thick bushes. The twigs scratched your face as well as your hands as you forced your way through, nearly stumbling and falling to the ground because your hiking shoes got tangled with the branches of the shrub. Actually, you could have gone around the bush quite easily and it even wouldn't have been a long detour but your mind was so fixated on getting to the cottage, feeling like you were running on fumes and ready to collapse at any moment, you had just thrown yourself at the first opportunity without thinking about it any further. It was exactly the opposite that you had been trained to do and ironically you were defying the safety briefing that you had been quoting to Whit many times during this hike.
You arrived to the cottage, opened the door and quickly closed it behind you after entering the room. At first Whit did not pay any attention to you. He was too focused on his task of lighting candles and setting them on the baking tray so they wouldn't accidentally burn the whole place down. You grabbed some sheets of old newspaper and used it to insulate the door a bit more since there were few narrow gaps between the doorframe and the door. The cottage was dimly lit and quite chilly but at least it was warmer than the forest outside. Finally Whit noticed you and greeted you with a casual nod.
- You were right, it was a good idea to take Scott's bag. he said and continued setting the candles, now trying to figure out where to put the tray so the flames would not die out from possible draft, it would not be easy to accidentally knock down the candles and they were still close enough to provide you and Whit some warmth. "I found a big pile of candles from a cupboard..." he spoke, paused and then continued "...And since we have the lighter, we don't have to create sparks with our non-existent chemistry." You rolled your eyes because of the joke. You enjoyed humor and in your opinion it was important to lighten up serious moments with witty or amusing comments, even a little bit of flirt was alright if that kept the atmosphere optimistic and the attitudes encouraged as well as hopeful, but now, being cold and exhausted, you just couldn't get amused by anything. "I like candles... they really set the mood" Whit commented and flashed a smile. He had a gorgeous smile and it annoyed you how much you liked his appearance.
- Aren’t you Mister Romance all of a sudden. you mumbled and walked a bit further into the cottage. "However the candles will make this cottage a bit warmer which is excellent since we cannot burn logs in the fireplace" you stated and when Whit finally focused his attention to you, you threw the water bottle to him as he squatted by the tray of candles.
- Good heavens! the filmmaker exclaimed when he saw you; your hair was soaked, partially frozen even and your clothes were too, you were partially covered with snow and you looked like you had been raised from the dead; there were dark circles under your eyes and your face looked disturbingly pale. "What happened to you?" he asked instantly after recovering from the shock.
- I... was reaching to fill the bottle... and then the snowbank gave in. you explained briefly. "The river wasn't deep but I managed to get all of my clothes wet" you added with an embarrassed tone. You hated to be in this situation and you hated to be the one who had made a miscalculation and screwed up.
- You should probably get undressed and wrap yourself into the emergency blanket. he said and stood up. "It's supposed to reflect ninety percent of your body heat back to you" he stated and then added "I read it in the instructions." Whit walked to the pile of backpacks and took the neatly and tightly folded emergency blanket out, removed the cover and then handed the blanket to you.
- Did you find any other blankets? you asked with a trembling voice as you unfolded the emergency blanket. You put it on your shoulders but since your clothes were wet, freezing cold and sucking away the warmth from your body, there was no heat to reflect back to you.
- Yes, I did. In fact I have built a lovers' nest to the warmest corner of this cottage. Whit said and smirked at you. "I've been told that in a situation like this the most effective way to stay warm is to share body heat" he spoke casually, not really understanding how serious the situation had become for you. At the same time you did not want to cause unnecessary panic and make yourself appear weak, so you hid the severity of the situation from the filmmaker. He had been filming his preparations and most likely was going to continue filming the conversations as well.
- That is true, but if you think that having sex is the right way to do it... you commented and then added "...You're wrong" while Whit emptied nearly half of the bottle with one single gulp.
- Because we're supposed to preserve energy... he said, closed the bottle's cap and then stated "...And not waste it." He offered the bottle to you but you refused it with a subtle gesture. You had swallowed few mouthfuls of water already while nearly drowning and truthfully you did not feel like drinking anything cold right now. "Although I wouldn't go as far as stating that having sex is wasting energy" he commented and then concluded playfully "Let's just say that we shouldn't spend energy."
- How is it that you are thinking about sex in a situation like this? you blurted and scoffed.
- Just ignore the comment, alright. Whit said instantly with a somewhat embarrassed tone. "It's not like I was actually going to engage myself into any... acts with you" he spoke with a tone that you couldn't interpret, perhaps sounding like he found this entire discussion awkward, unnecessary and frustrating. He had just made a silly comment that had not meant to be taken seriously and you had done exactly that, taken it seriously.
- No shit! you exclaimed and scoffed. "Besides... I'm sure you are dating some model anyway" you commented with a barely audible tone and opened the zipper of your winter coat, your stiff fingers nearly unable to perform such simple task and the wet fabric getting glued on your arms as you tried to pulled the jacket off.
- No, I am not. Whit replied with a slightly offended tone. He clearly did not like it strangers made assumptions concerning his personal life and just as you were about to apologize, he corrected you by stating "She is an art dealer."
- Ah, an art dealer. you mumbled somewhat bitterly and proceeded to take off your hiking boots. You did not want to sound jealous because you weren't, not a lot at least, but somehow it would have been easier for you to think that Whit dated brainless models or wannabe Instagram influencers instead of sophisticated and highly educated women. Dating a model would have supported your first impression of Whit and now knowing that he was not dating some dumb shallow airhead, you had to admit that perhaps your opinion of Whit was wrong and if this part was wrong... what else had you gotten wrong too? No, you generally speaking had nothing against influencers and models but some of them just seemed to be very materialistic and only cared about creating an illusion of a perfect life, an exterior or a facade without anything real behind it.
- Yes. She is smart and beautiful. We're a good match, you know, we share the same interests and like the same things. Whit spoke and perhaps, for your big surprise, there was slight hesitation in his voice, almost like he had tried to convince himself more than you, although why would he have tried to convince you to believe him? He didn't owe you anything and he had previously made it very clear that he did not give a damn about your opinions. "I am truly blessed to have her in my life" Whit stated, now sounding even more like he was trying to make a convincing argument, and then continued with a tone that was a combination of pride and subtle bitterness "I would never cheat on her... or any other woman." His tone made you suspect that he had gotten cheated on in the past and therefore it was a touchy subject. It was none of your business but you couldn't help having a bit more sympathy towards him, because he wasn't a player or a womanizer like you had assumed.
However, this, knowing that Whit was dating someone, also meant that whenever Whit flirted with you, you had to keep your mind clear from any daydreams and it was also absolutely vital to remind yourself that he didn't mean it 'that way'; it was only a bit of fun to distract yourselves from the gloomy situation, a playful and light-hearted personality trait, and therefore you shouldn't get yourself confused by these 'messages'. No, you were not developing a crush on Whit but the truth was that he was a very handsome man and occasionally even charming which made it slightly challenging to keep your head in the game... especially when he was flashing smiles or flirting with you so effortlessly. Yes, it was annoying how flirting just came naturally for Whit while you never came up with anything nice to say and handled flirty situations... or well, men in general, in an awkward manner.
- Yeah, I'm sure she's lovely. you commented and spread your wet winter coat on one of the armchairs to dry. You knew that since there was no way to actually heat up the cottage properly, your clothes weren’t going to dry up quickly which meant that you had to find something else to wear in the meanwhile. “Hey Whit…” you began and when the filmmaker shifted his attention to you, you continued “…Did you happen to see any clothes laying around when you ransacked this cottage?” Whit was silent for a few seconds while he recalled what he had found during his scavenger hunt. He had come across many broken things but also some items of clothing.
- Yeah, I saw some long moth-eaten underpants and an old fleece shirt in the bedroom closet. he mentioned casually and then chuckled with a ridiculing tone “Lumberjack style.”
- That’s awesome. you commented and then added “I’d better get changed then” as you walked towards the bedroom door across the main living space and bypassed Whit.
- Wait for a second. Whit said and stared at you with a surprised yet rather amused look on his face.
- What? you snapped and folded your arms, the gesture communicating to Whit that you did not appreciate his sense of humor right now.
- You’re not seriously going to… wear them, are you? he asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible; he wasn't a fool, actually he had pretty great social skills and he was fluent in communicating with people, that, after all, was what he did for a living, besides, it had become clear that you were the key to his survival and therefore there was no point in deliberately pissing you off. You furrowed your brows and sharpened your gaze. “I wouldn’t recommend” he stated with a sincere tone and then added with a disgusted look on his face “They’re nasty. Like, seriously… beyond foul and musty!” Yes, Whit like clothes that looked good and he dressed to impress but it was incredible how he failed to understand the seriousness of the situation. This was not the right time to be picky about one's clothes, in fact, you were just happy if there were some you could use for now so you wouldn't freeze to death.
- Well, thanks for informing me that all of my options suck. you stated with a sarcastic tone. “Yeah, I truly appreciate it, especially since I have so many of them to choose from” you added and rolled your eyes.
- Come on, aren’t you being just a tiny bit over dramatic now? Whit teased and smirked. No, he didn't want to piss you off but he couldn't help it because in his opinion the situation was not that bad which meant that you were overreacting, just slightly.
- Option number one… wear nice but soaked and partially frozen clothes and die from hypothermia. you said and then continued with a mocking tone “Option number two… don’t wear clothes at all, wear a blanket instead and die from hypothermia, but slower.” You smirked at Whit and then concluded “Or option number three, wear musty clothes and possibly survive.” Whit’s expression changed from amused to serious and he for a moment he did not say anything… and neither did you and the awkward, depressing silence filled the cottage.
- You should probably go and change. the filmmaker said eventually with a tone that lacked mockery as well as amusement and then turned away to give you some privacy.
You entered the bedroom and saw the bed that had been already made for you and Whit who had clearly used all possible means available, even old newspapers, to insulate the bed from the cold walls. There were candles in glass jars and the windows had been taped shut with the duct tape, to reduce draft most likely. The room was cool but it was warmer than the living area so you closed the door a little to keep the warmth in and to shield you from Whit's eyes. You weren't worried that Whit would sneak in or spy on you, he most likely didn't even find you that attractive, but you did not want to take a risk of him seeing your bruises - they were getting massive and the color of the bruise was turning purple.
- In the meanwhile, could you please check how much food we have and ration it somehow so we won’t accidentally eat too much at one go? you said as you took off your clothes.
- Sure. Whit replied and asked "For how many days?"
- Few, maybe more. you answered and sighed as Whit started to blabber about the importance of getting an exact number from you. "Oh, I don’t know" you mumbled with a somewhat frustrated tone and pulled down your trousers and long underpants, leaving you with your hipster panties and a sports bra. "We’re not planning to live here…" you commented and then added "...So… three?" You hoped that your estimate was at least somewhat on point but the truth was that you couldn't know for sure. There were too many variables to be taken into consideration; for example, you had no idea what kind of weather there was going to be during the next days since you had no access to updated weather reports and in the springtime the weather always changed quickly, varying from snowstorms to freezing temperatures and sunny days during which the temperatures rose above zero. Also you didn't know how bad your and Whit's injuries were therefore you couldn't say or make an educated guess whether if it was even theoretically possible to hike to the snowmobiles and drive to the resort, to save yourselves so to speak, or if you had to sit tight and wait for the help to come to you.
- Alright. Plus this evening. the filmmaker said and started to go through the backpacks.
- Yeah, so four days… and two people. you stated and searched the closet for clothes while you spoke "You must make your portions larger because you need more energy than I do." You found the long underpants and pulled them on instantly ignoring the fact that most likely they had never been washed properly and they were indeed nasty. You heard Whit saying "Nah" as he arranged the supplies on the table. You found the long-sleeved fleece and just as you were about to get dressed in it, you decided to take off the sports bra too. It was soaked as well and you knew you would be more comfortable and feel warmer without it.
- I will divide these equally. he said with a firm tone and continued sorting the goods.
- It doesn’t make any sense. you commented as you buttoned the fleece all the way up.
- Yes, it does! Whit exclaimed. "You are the guide and you must have a clear head on your shoulders. My survival depends on you" he explained with a tone that sounded serious and fully focused.
- Fine. You’ll handle this the way you want. you commented and continued searching for some socks and pretty much anything else you could wear.
You managed to find socks and a knitted vest but they both were old and withered and on top of that there were holes scattered all around them, making them quite useless for the purpose they had been intended. However you decided to wear them anyway, hoping that they would insulate the draft a little. Your hipster panties were also soaked and most likely it would have been smart to get rid of them as well but the truth was you did not want the underpants of some sweaty, unhygienic lumberjack to touch your private bits. You rather tolerated some discomfort than suffered from a mental image of having someone's pee-stained junk rubbing against the pants and then the pants rubbing against you.
- So how are we looking? you asked when you returned to the main living area from the bedroom. You wrapped yourself into the emergency blanket and blew somewhat lukewarm air on your hands. You flexed your fingers and rubbed your hands together to warm them up but nothing seemed to help.
- Ready for Paris fashion week. Whit commented with an amused expression when he shifted his gaze from the rations in front of him on the table to you. He chuckled and asked you to do a spin for him. "Spin around! Give me a show" he said and winked at you.
- Ha-ha! you chuckled very briefly, although your chuckle sounded almost like a scoff, making you seem quite pissed off, which on the other hand was understandable since you were wearing some stranger's possibly shit-stained clothes. You smirked at Whit sarcastically and specified "I meant the food situation."
Whit rolled his eyes, shifting his gaze from the food to you and back to food repeatedly, and mumbled with a barely audible voice "Yeah, no shit." You raised your eyebrows and pursed up your lips. Then you asked "No shit?" with a sarcastic tone and when Whit had focused his gaze on you, you stated "There actually might be a stain or two. Hard to say, the lighting was poor." Whit quickly shifted his gaze away from you and mouthed "Alright" without a sound. The atmosphere was quite awkward and you both were getting on each other's nerves; in Whit's opinion you were taking everything too seriously and in your opinion Whit was not taking anything seriously enough.
The whole thing was a big joke to him and that annoyed you... mostly because you were aware of the seriousness of your current situation - your core temperature was low and so far neither the emergency blanket nor the dry clothes had not made any difference to the way you felt. Sure, you knew that your core temperature would not rise instantly but at the same time you had hoped that getting rid of your soaked clothes would have at least helped a bit. But no, you were still shivering like crazy and you could feel the shivering turn into numbness. Yes, it was a symptom of hypothermia; first there were shivers and feeling cold, when the body temperature decreased, it was expected that you wouldn't feel cold anymore and the shivers would stop... you would become disoriented, apathetic and drowsy... and finally pass out.
It was easy to tell that Whit's body temperature was alright and yours wasn't; the temperature in the cottage was somewhere close to zero degrees Celsius, slightly above hopefully, so when Whit exhaled there was steam coming out from his mouth. However when you exhaled, there was none. You were, of course, happy that Whit was fine and his hi-tech winter clothes were working as they should, which meant that you got to have the emergency blanket for yourself... but noticing details like this one made you anxious, nervy and tensed up.
- Well, we have approximately half a kilo of squirrel food. Whit said and presented the bag to you. He had laid everything on the table and formed rations of the items by dividing them into groups. "Six muesli bars, thirty grams per each..." he said and after you had nodded as a sign of agreeing, he continued listing with a firm tone "...A large handful of crushed cheese crackers and a chocolate bar, fifty one grams."
- Oh, we have chocolate? you asked with a surprised tone.
- Yes. It is yours. Whit replied and then explained "Scott had gotten us all one per each and I already had mine."
- Hey, we’ll share everything. you stated and smiled a little. "Perhaps we should save it though" you suggested. "For a special occasion or…" you began and then paused because you noticed Whit furrowing his brows. You swallowed once, cleared your throat and then spoke hesitantly "...For, you know, the final straw -situation." Whit did not comment. "Our last stand powered by chocolate" you declared festively and smiled a little.
- Yeah, I like the idea. Whit said and returned your smile with a smile. "Also, we have an unlimited supply of drinking water" he stated and pointed at the plastic bottle.
- Okay. you said and nodded. "It is a hell of a diet" you commented and then explained "I mean… if the climate was warmer, we would survive easily." Whit agreed and nodded; the situation was not that bad and in fact, you had quite nice amount of provisions to share and this whole ordeal was going to last for a couple of days anyway. The filmmaker wasn't worried at all. "However in cold the rule of threes doesn’t quite apply" you commented with a troubled tone.
- The rule of... threes? Whit asked curiously. He had kind of gotten used to your relentless need to show off your knowledge by firing trivia and using 'hiking jargon' so when the filmmaker did not understand what you were talking about, you had a chance to explain it in plain terms, to spell it out to Whit like he was nothing but a simpleton. This irritated him but then again, perhaps you usually operated with people who spoke the same language than you and therefore had gotten used to using it to fit in more. Perhaps other hikers always saw Scott as the leader and you as his assistant and that was the reason why you were... almost like trying to convince your clients and perhaps yourself too, that you knew what you were doing and was just as good and competent in your job as anyone else... as your male colleagues.
- Yeah. You can survive three minutes without oxygen and three hours without shelter in a harsh climate. you spoke with a thoughtful tone, paused and then continued "Three days without water and three weeks without food." Your voice was hoarse and it was obvious that talking caused you discomfort. Whit nodded. "But like I said… it’s different because in cold climate our bodies consume more energy in order to stay warm” you stated. You sounded like you had been ready to give due to the obstacles being so high and this frustrated Whit since his lightheartedness was based on the assumption that you had everything under control. He did not want to think that you had just as little clue as he did because that would be horrifying.
- You know, you could be a bit more optimistic. Whit commented casually. “Or at least pretend that it’s going to be alright” he stated and then added “The customer experience could be better.”
- The customer experience? Are you serious? you asked with a tone that was filled with confusion and disbelief. Was Whit still thinking that this situation was part of some kind of extreme survival experience that he had paid for? Was he in shock and therefore incapable of understanding how fucked up this whole situation was?
- Sure. Whatever you say, Mister Customer! you snapped after being speechless for a moment. “How about you’ll focus on the bright side while I’ll try to be realistic, huh?” you said, your tone attacking Whit just like the draft was attacking you from outside the emergency blanket. “You want to give it a go? You want to see how many silver linings you can find?” you asked with a bitter, mocking tone.
- Calm down, (Y/N)! Bloody hell! Whit exclaimed and backed away a little to gain a bit more distance between you and him. “You don’t have to be so defensive all the time. Just relax a little!” he said, his tone making it clear to you that in his opinion you were overreacting, and then asked with a somewhat ridiculing tone “Do you know how to relax or… is this you? Is this who you are twenty four seven?” You were silent and turned your gaze away from the tall handsome man in front of you.
- You’re telling me that I am reacting to everything in a wrong way but look at yourself. Whit stated and paused for a more dramatic effect. “You have built a wall around yourself so nothing can affect you, so you can stay in that detached bubble where you just…” he spoke and stopped again, after another pause continued “…Wait for the worst to happen.” You didn’t say anything because you were not used to being challenged by a stranger so openly. It felt like you had been pushed to a corner, like there was a bright light that was pointed at you and you were being interrogated. “You don’t let yourself have that… glimmer of hope” Whit stated with a tone that was filled of frustration and sadness… but no fear, still no fear.
- Do you think we will survive or do you think that this is a lost cause? he asked after a moment of silence. You felt dizzy as you tried to come up with an answer, something positive, comforting and hopeful to say, but nothing came to you. Your mind was blank and filled with numbness. Whit stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but when he realized that you didn’t either know or the prognosis was bad and you didn’t want to say it out loud to not cause any further turbulence between you and him, he said “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” You sighed relieved and then listened in silence as he spoke “I might not fully grasp the magnitude of the fucked-upness of our situation but at least I still have…” he said and then added “…Hope.”
You felt guilty for being so pessimistic and seeing only obstacles all around you. You knew that dying from hunger was very unlikely; you after all had plenty of nuts and stuff to eat - it was almost a miracle that so much of your provisions had survived the avalanche and most importantly there was plenty of drinkable water available. Therefore dying from starvation was just as unlikely as it was for Whit to die from hypothermia, considering that his winter clothes were dry and top of the line as well as the highest quality. However the situation you and Whit were in was risky and possibly life-threatening despite the provisions and shelter because both of you were injured but neither of you knew exactly how bad your injuries were.
It seemed that Whit had not gotten any other injuries than the one in his thigh. At least he had not complained about pain, other than the leg that was, or about headaches, however you weren't a nurse, a doctor or a healthcare expert of any sort and therefore you were unable to notice signs of internal injuries. Besides, you had not seen if Whit had bruises that would give clues of possible injuries and even if he had none, there was a high risk of his leg wound getting infected. Also, physical health was not the only thing that worried you; you did not know Whit and therefore you didn't know how he would react to hunger and isolation. He had been very optimistic and casual about the whole thing so far but... what if he suddenly lost hope?
Was he going to snap? Were you going to snap? Yeah, you had never been in this situation either and for that reason you had no idea how long you were able to keep it together... especially when fearing for your own life due to the hypothermia and battling against exhaustion that had already taken over once. You knew there was weakness in you; a part of you just wanted to give up if fighting for survival meant physical and mental discomfort and the only reason you had hauled your ass back to the cottage after passing out on the snow was your sense of responsibility. Yeah, your will to live was not as strong as you had imagined it to be... or perhaps it was temporarily lost due to the hard decision you had been forced to make and the traumatic event you had experienced. Maybe it was survivor's guilt that was eating you alive and making you feel quite indifferent about your own survival.
- Just work with me (Y/N), just this once. Alright? Whit asked and waited for a comment from you. You however stayed silent because you did not want to say something that might piss the filmmaker off or push him into melancholy. "Now, if we look at the positives" he spoke and smiled a little, then he began "We are alive, neither of us got seriously injured in the avalanche." You folded your arms and hugged yourself tightly to make yourself a little bit warmer. However when you moved your upper body, there was a sharp pain in your right side, right under your armpit and the pain made you gasp. Whit, fortunately, did not notice it. "We have each other and we’ll look after one another. Right?" he said with a hopeful tone. "You’ll support me and I’ll support you and together we’ll make sure that neither of us will give up" he stated and then continued with the same tone "We’ll hold each other accountable-"
- Give up? you asked or more like blurted bitterly when you snapped out from your thoughts. "What makes you think that I am going... to give up?" you asked hesitantly, his words sounding like an attack or an accusation in your ears.
You suddenly felt like Whit knew more than you had thought and hoped and this made you paranoid. You started to suspect that he had sensed the weakness in you and therefore somehow knew what you had done just an hour ago - that you had given up and allowed yourself to fall asleep instead of trying ensure your survival by returning to the cottage immediately. Yeah sure, you had been physically drained after pulling yourself up from the river but still, you couldn't say for sure if you had willingly given up or been forced to give up. It all was so hazy, your mind was clouded and you had difficulties with recalling events how they had actually played out because your memories were getting mixed with vivid thoughts, making no difference between what you had thought about doing but had not done and the actions you had actually taken. It was all blending and melting together into a surrealistic painting - your own personal dream with Salvador Dalí's melting clocks and Escher stairs.
- We have shelter and we have an infinite and secure water supply. Whit stated with an optimistic tone.
- Yes, it is definitely better that we don’t have to melt water from snow with supplies we don’t have. you mumbled, inhaled and then began with a serious tone "However-"
- Oh, come on! (Y/N), please don’t do this. the filmmaker said with a somewhat annoyed and slightly desperate tone and interrupted you. You sighed and shook your head because you found it incredibly arrogant that the filmmaker, who by the way had no degree like you had, had the audacity to interrupt you while you were talking. When Whit finally shut up and stopped lecturing you about the importance of optimism as well as scolding you for your 'poor attitude', you instantly began despite his eye-rolls and groans.
- However, the river is not entirely risk-free either. you stated and gestured Whit to let you talk this time. "The water level is low and the snowbanks are getting weaker" you explained and then added with a serious tone "They can collapse when your weight shifts as you reach to fill the bottle."
- Well, that is a problem. Whit commented and then instantly added victoriously "Or would be if I had not found a bucket and some rope when I was ransacking this shithole."
- Oh, you did. you commented and rolled your eyes when Whit smirked at you.
- Yep! he exclaimed very proudly.
- That's awesome. you mumbled as you imagined how much different your search for water would have been if you had had the bucket tied to a rope with you.
In fact it would have made all the difference in the world since it wouldn't have been necessary to go so close to the edge and reach down to the water like you had. Perhaps you would have even avoided the refreshing swim, yes the swim that had decreased your chances of survival drastically. The more you spun the thought around in your head, the deeper into paranoia you sank. You started to come up with elaborate schemes how Whit had deliberately kept the existence of the bucket a secret from you in order to ensure that you would fall into the stream... so he would have all your provisions for himself.
You started to see the filmmaker as an enemy whom could not be trusted even though there was a voice of reason in your head telling you that your delusions made no sense and you were too exhausted to think clearly. Whit was not your enemy because his survival depended on you and therefore he had no motive to get you out from the picture. "Yet, at least" you thought and took a step backwards. You decided to keep your distance and to keep a close eye on Whit. Yes, you would gather more evidence before confronting him.
- Yeah… and I was thinking… Whit spoke with a constructive tone, glanced at you quickly and then continued “…I could take a more active role from now on. Like… get the water from the stream.” You did not make any comments and therefore Whit carried on. “It makes sense. I am taller and stronger than you, I can reach further and you almost drowned already so…” the filmmaker stated and then added “…It is safe to say that it’s better if you’ll stay away from the river from now on.” You couldn’t read his tone but you didn’t like what he implied.
- I didn't drown… wasn’t even close. you mumbled with a bitter, barely audible tone.
- Just let me do this, alright. Whit said and smiled reassuringly. “No more passing the buck.” he stated firmly and then continued with a playful tone “But I am not sleeping close to you when you’re wearing those nasty stinking clothes.”
- Is that where you draw the line? you asked and smirked at Whit, who instantly assumed that everything was alright between you an him.
- Yeah. Definitely. he chuckled and shifted his focus from you to the rationed provisions. “Also we have food! You see, things could be a lot worse” he stated enthusiastically and continued telling you how he used to date a yoga instructor while living in California and how that woman had fasted often. He told you how his ex had not eaten almost anything for a week and she had been just fine. You listened to Whit’s voice until it got muffled in your head and his words made no sense to you anymore. “You see, we’re fine!” he exclaimed and handed you a half of a muesli bar and a handful of ‘squirrel’s food’.
You ate in silence and drank a little bit of water while Whit amused himself by telling you stories about his previous adventures, Then you carried the tray of candles into the bedroom and you both lay down to sleep. Whit let you have the emergency blanket while he slept in his winter clothes and an old duvet. He rolled on his side, facing away from you and fell asleep almost immediately while you stared at the ceiling and watched at the dancing shadows, conjured by the flickering flames. You were awfully tired and wanted to close your eyes but you were afraid that if you did, you wouldn’t necessary open them anymore.
You see, you needed Whit’s body heat to make you warmer, otherwise you would just continue shivering and perhaps even slipping deeper into hypothermia until your state could no longer be reversed. You glanced at the filmmaker, sleeping peacefully and mumbling something in his sleep and then shifted your gaze back to the ceiling once more. You tried to imagine what it might feel like to be hugged by someone as tall and large as Whit. You imagined the warmth and safety… until your body shook quite violently as the result of feeling cold. Bitterness and a strong sense of unfairness crept into your mind and filled it with stubbornness; you were not going to beg… you were not going to ask… and you were not going to casually slide closer and cuddle the Filmmaker Extraordinaire.
There were large black moldy spots and spider webs all over the ceiling, many wooden planks used in the cottage were rotting already and soon the decay would consume the entire structure… or so you reasoned. It was funny how this cottage resembled your mental state… once warm and filled with joy and now cold and falling apart. You rolled on your side, pulled your legs against your chest as a desperate attempt to make you feel at least a little warmer… but it made no difference… so you closed your eyes and hoped that you would just fall asleep quickly so you wouldn’t feel the shivers anymore.