The Scientist

Stuck

Hels pov

I had woken up with my head pressed against the frosty window, the condensation fogging up the glass as I watched the soft snowfall from last night blanket the world outside. It was beautiful, serene even, but I couldn’t help thinking about the guy in the cabin way out there, just barely visible from this distance. He must be freezing, but somehow, he didn’t look cold—there was something about his posture, the way he carried himself. Maybe he was more prepared for the first real winter than I gave him credit for.

The rest of us had been outfitted with all the winter gear you could think of: boots, thick hats, insulated gloves, snow pants—the whole works. I couldn't say I loved it. I mean, it was practical, sure, but all those layers made me feel like a marshmallow. A bulky, black marshmallow wrapped up in too many puffy clothes. Still, the blackness of my outfit did make me stand out against the stark whiteness of the snow-covered ground.

What really set my outfit apart, though, were the gold highlights woven into the fabric, like little streaks of sunlight against the midnight black. Whether it was custom-made for me or just a happy accident, it was hard to tell, but the gold accents gleamed subtly, catching the light in a way that made me feel like I was wearing something more than just snow gear—like I was donning armor against the biting cold. Even so, I still felt that disconnect, my thoughts drifting back to the man in the cabin and wondering if he, too, was layered up like the rest of us... or if he had his own ways of fighting off the cold.

Xisuma had a spare set of everything—boots, gloves, hats, you name it—but not in his usual colors of purple and green. No, this set was in red and white, a stark contrast to what he normally wore. It seemed like everyone was still clinging to the hope that somehow they would break through and pull Xavier back into the fold, into the warmth of the villa. I could sense their optimism in the way they talked about it, in the quiet looks they exchanged when his name came up.

But deep down, I had this nagging feeling it wasn’t going to work out that way. Xavier was too far gone, lost in his own madness, spiraling further into whatever darkness had gripped him. His mind seemed fractured, and no amount of red and white gear or warm cabins would be enough to reach him. It wasn’t something I could easily admit out loud, though. I didn’t want to dishearten anyone—not when they were all trying so hard to stay hopeful, to believe that Xavier could come back from wherever he’d disappeared to, mentally or physically.

Yet, no matter how much I wanted to share their hope, I couldn’t shake that feeling. The truth was, some things are too broken to fix, and I worried Xavier was one of them. But I kept those thoughts to myself, watching the snowfall outside, my breath fogging up the glass as the cabin across the way remained untouched, as if waiting for someone who might never come back.

I ended up curling up by the window, freeing my tail from beneath me and wrapping it around my legs for warmth. The soft fur provided a comforting sensation against the cold glass, and from my brother’s apartment, I had the perfect view of the world outside. The snow had transformed the cityscape into something almost magical, with thick blankets of white covering every surface.

Out there, I could see everyone playing in the snow, their laughter muffled by the distance. Tango stood out the most, especially when he got hit square in the face with a snowball. He yelped in surprise, but within seconds, he flared up, flames bursting to life around him, causing the snow to instantly melt off his face and clothes. It was impossible not to chuckle at the sight—his heat never lasted long enough to start a fire or do any damage, but it was enough to keep him from staying cold for long.

Watching everyone have fun outside, I couldn’t help but feel a little distant, like I was observing a different world. Despite the warmth of my tail around me and the soft light of the room, there was a quiet loneliness in watching from the window. I could join them, I knew that, but for now, I stayed curled up, content to watch the snow continue to fall and swirl around them, a peaceful observer in the warmth of the apartment.