Between Mysteries And Heartbeats (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter Sixteen: Quicker Ways

Closing the door behind you, you let out a deep, contented sigh, feeling the weight of those bitter thoughts melt away, like the cold snow left behind outside. The warmth of your cabin embraced you, both physically and emotionally, and you turned back to Ford with a genuine smile, allowing yourself to lean fully into the playful and loving energy that had been growing between you all morning.

The tension that had lingered between you melted away, replaced by a deep sense of peace. This was your moment with Ford, and you weren't about to let anything spoil it. Together, you both shuffled out of your wet slippers, placing them on the doormat to dry, your feet now cold against the floor.

As the cold from outside began to seep into your bones, you both instinctively wrapped your arms around yourselves, rubbing your shoulders in a futile attempt to generate warmth. You glanced at each other, catching the absurdity of your shivering forms with drenched hair and red noses, and burst into quiet laughter. The sound of your giggles echoed through the cabin as you hurried toward the fireplace, desperate for the warmth it promised.

Your hands trembled as you crouched down to start the fire, stacking wood into the small furnace with less skill than you cared to admit. Ford, ever the observer, crouched beside you, watching your efforts closely. With a playful shake of his head, he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Oh, nuh-uh! You do it, then, Fordsy," you shot back with mock indignation, widening your eyes in exaggerated shock. A mischievous grin spread across your face as you backed away from the fireplace and slid your icy hand inside his robe, pressing it against his stomach.

Ford gasped, stumbling away from your cold touch, his body jolting in surprise. "Ah! Your hands are freezing!" he exclaimed, laughter bubbling between his words as he stepped back from you.

You both broke into fits of laughter, your breath still hitching from the playful exchange. "Alright, alright, I'll make the fire," Ford relented, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But seriously, my goddess, your hands are like ice!"

"I do what I can," you teased as you watched him crouch by the furnace, his focus shifting to lighting the fire. "To be fair, I never really know what I'm doing when I light this thing. I just kinda... hope for the best."

Ford chuckled at your confession, glancing over his shoulder. "I could tell," he teased back at you standing behind him, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

Feigning offense, you gasped dramatically and grabbed a gentle fistful of his hair, tilting his head back so he had no choice but to look up at you. You smiled down at him, bowing your head toward him so that your faces were inches apart, his laughter softened as he gazed at you.

"We are never going to get anything done today if you keep playing like this," Ford murmured, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed any hint of seriousness in his tone.

"Good thing we have nothing to do, hm?" you whispered, leaning down to kiss him upside down, your fingers still tangled gently in his hair. The warmth of your kiss made him sigh softly, a quiet sound escaping his lips as he melted into the moment.

Ford's hands reached back and brushed gently against your arms as he leaned into the kiss, the brief warmth from his touch doing little to chase away the persistent chill creeping into your bones. Despite the tenderness of the moment, shivers started to return to both of you, making it impossible to ignore the cold any longer. You reluctantly pulled away, guiding his head back down toward the fireplace. "Fire," you said with a playful, yet eager, demand.

Ford chuckled, shivering as he muttered, "Keep your hands off me and I might actually get it done!"

You couldn't resist teasing him a little more, trailing your cold fingers along his cheek as you moved away. He gasped softly at the icy touch, making you giggle. You plopped down on the couch, pulling a blanket tightly around yourself, tucking your knees into your chest as you watched him tend to the fire. Your cold, wet hair clung to your face, and you brushed it aside, eagerly waiting for the warmth to finally fill the room.