So I have no idea what I'm doing and this is really just me testing the waters when it comes to uploading fiction. This is a short part of what I hope to be a slightly longer story, it's just the longer I stared at it the more I started coming up with things to change and honestly it just came to a point where if I didn't upload it soon I would delete the whole thing out of embarrassment. But here it is. I hope you enjoy. Do comment or message me for any kind of feedback, I'm new to both this and writing so it's all appreciated. Hope you enjoy, Ambi

Storm - Part 1

I was stuck, right in the middle of the storm. I continued to force my way through the snowfall and the wind, the abandoned road before me lit only by the occasional street light that tinted the snow a garish dark orange. My paws, frustratingly not gloved, were stuffed deep into the relative warmth of my pockets, while my muzzle was nestled in my scarf, attempting to shield my numb muzzle from the onslaught of the wind. My coat and jumper shielded me from some of the cold, but my light haired fur wasn't enough to feel the chill winds running through the parts of my body I couldn't cover.

On most days, I appreciated the almost complete lack of houses or cars on the home from work. It gave me a good 45 minutes to think and relax after a potentially stressful (or boring) shift, to nestle myself in the quiet views of the forest stretching out beyond familiar hills. But now it might actually be the death of me. My vision heavily blurred by the constant freckles of snow that battered against my glasses; I could barely see five feet ahead of me, let alone off to the horizon. My body temperature was dropping rapidly, I was shivering violently, and it would only get worse as the storm continued. I needed to shelter, but there was no place to go.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was one house, one I had been to many times, walked to every day on the way to school, not far from here. One that, if by some miracle I had dreamt everything past Friday evening, would have been the perfect solution. But I couldn't. I could remember Friday night so vividly it couldn't have been a dream. Even if it was a Friday night, Ethan was bound to be home. I couldn't just show up, surely, after not talking to him. I needed time to process everything before attempting to face him again, it barely happened two days ago and we hadn't seen each other since, I'd made sure of it. It simply isn't an option, I told myself. Now suck it up and keep walking.

What little walking I could manage was cut unexpectedly short when my boot went through a steep patch of ground, hidden by the snow, and I fell face-first, my muzzle cutting swiftly through the powder and hitting solid ground buried beneath with a worrying thwack. My face was so numb I could barely feel any pain. Pulling up to a sitting position, the fur on my muzzle covered with sprinkles of snow, blood trickling from my nose and cheeks a deep red from embarrassment and the cold, I could feel tears begin to form in my eyes. It was, at this moment, either sitting here and freezing to death or having to talk to Ethan. And choosing between the two was more difficult than it should have been.

Eventually, common sense (the bastard), took ahold of my body and forced me to my feet. I changed course, heading left down another path. Within a couple minutes a familiar house came into view, familiar concrete and light bricked exterior appearing like a ghost from the fog. The lights were on, a beacon of warmth through the icy hell around me. All my apprehensions seemed to vanish as I reached the front door and slapping my hand imprecisely against the doorbell.

Muffled noises came from inside. Then hurried footsteps, then brief jangling as the person opening the door fiddled with the lock, and finally a click and the door swung open, knocked aside by the wind. A silhouetted figure held the door open, their body tense from the sudden onslaught of ice and cold rushing in from outside. Their antlers instantly recognisable, they appeared to be taken aback as they realised who was standing at the front door, and then my fears rushed back to me and I stood, paralysed.

What felt like minutes passed.

"Hey, Ethan." I attempted to say quietly, my voice shaking through chattering teeth. I put up little resistance as he, probably not having heard me, took my arm and yanked my half frozen body through the doorway and into safety.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked.

I was now sitting down on a sofa, Ethan leaning on the hand rest beside me. My paws held a hot water bottle to my chest, my knees up in the couch to try and trap my body heat. I was in a daze, still shivering, unsure of how much time had passed. Ethan had helped me out of my coat and boots, sat me down, gave me a blanket and a hot water bottle, and started the fireplace. I was always jealous of Ethan's house. His dad was an architect and builder, who designed and half constructed the house himself. The front and dining areas were connected as one large spacious hall, built with modern oak and concrete, the walls decorated with family photos and modern artwork, cast in a dark yellow glow and erratic shadows from the crackling fireplace.

I looked up to Ethan, his expression a discernible mix of caring concern and utter bewilderment. Staring down towards the ground, I spoke slowly, my mouth movements still slow and imprecise as I began to regain feeling in my face. I explained how I forgotten to check the weather on my way out from work, and since I was the last employee out of the store, no-one was there to tell me that the storm was actually arriving three hours earlier than previously projected, meaning I had locked myself out of the building dressed for a light snowfall and found myself caught in one of the worst snowstorms the country had seen in half a century.

"Do your parents know where you are?"

I shook my head, still staring at my knees. I hadn't even thought of them, they were probably worried sick. Ethan nodded before getting up. I turned to watch as he picked up his phone from his charger on the kitchen counter.

"I'm calling them." I thanked him as he held up the phone to his ear, his tail swishing behind him as he turned his back to me. The concern in his voice dropped to a warm, polite tone as he began to speak to what sounded like the mother. Ethan was a natural at this sort of thing. He was always ready to help without a word, and always knew exactly what to do. I loved and hated it about him.

He was taller than I was, though not much. A red deer, Ethan was actually quite short for his species, with one antler slightly broken. was always big, but his his rounded face and features, coupled with his shorter stature, made him a lot less intimidating then most of his family.

Unlike me, he had lived in the village his whole life, his accent a dead giveaway. Though there was something in the way he spoke that made him extremely easy to follow, something naturally comforting and playful.

"She want to speak to you."

After a brief exchange, Ethan turned and walked back towards me, with a light tapping of his bare feet on the marble floor as he moved.

I went to move my hands but Ethan instead knelt down so we were level with one another and held the phone up to my ear. I said hello

Ethan seemed to stifle a laugh as I recoiled from the blast of noise from the phone as the voice on the other preceded to chastise me. My mother, who was also a local here, having moved back with my father after having me, lacked the more relaxed accent Ethan possessed.

"...and I told you had to check the weather before you left. I knew they were going to change and it's the not the first time the weatherman's been wrong..."

I looked back with a resigned expression; Ethan smiled sympathetically.

"Do thank Ethan for letting you stay the night, okay?" She said, after pausing for breath. I went to answer and hesitated. The realization that I was getting home until tomorrow afternoon at the very least hit me. I'd have to spend an entire night in Ethan's house. I did my best not to cringe with embarrassment at the notion. It didn't work, Ethan looked back at me, confused. Being a deer, his hearing wasn't as sharp as mine, so he has no idea what made my facial expression change like that. I began to feel uncomfortable. Any reassurance Ethan had initially given off seemed to vanish, and I became acutely aware of how close the two of us were. The warmth from his body seemed to radiate onto me as he knelt in front of me. His presence, once comforting, seemed to dominate over me. I could smell his scent, too. He smelt like some kind of spice, he had been cooking. It was musky, too, he had been working out. It was definitely not an unpleasant smell, in fact if I could I would have liked him to stay for a bit longer. I could feel myself getting light headed, and my tail began to stir slightly with excitement, as I began to think back back to Friday night. At the party, when...

Dammit, this it was not something I needed to deal with right now! Plus, the smell of cooking had reminded I hadn't eaten since a light breakfast on my way out to work, and I suddenly felt hungry.

My frustration forced a reply out of me, and after a long winded goodbye Ethan moved his paw away from my ear and stood up. I felt relief, but almost a little disappointment, as his heat and smell left me.

"You alright, man?" Ethan asked, a familiar voice of concern. I nodded again, slightly more enthusiastically then last time.

"It'll just be the two of us then, my parents went out for shopping and they've had to get a hotel for the night." Ethan said as he walked away "Are you hungry? I just made some pasta"

"Nah, I'm good." I lied, not wanting to be a burden with all he had done for me so far. My stomach loudly groaned as if in protest. Ethan smiled, one eyebrow raised. "Would you like some?"

I looked away, embarrassed. "Yes, please..."

Ethan rounded the corner towards the kitchen. The sounds of dishes and pots being moved around echoed into the main room. Ethan began to call out from the beginning over the noise. "I've only got what I hadn't eaten already, so there isn't too much. I'll set up the blowup once I'm done. Oh, you're gonna have to use Henry's toothbrush. Don't worry though, he hadn't used it much before he left." I glanced at a photo of the two of them on the table next to the sofa. Ethan's brother was currently at university on a rugby scholarship. Unlike his younger brother, Henry was huge, ripped and really scary. The two stood in the photo smiling alongside each other, looking almost like a before and after advert for steroids. They really were best friends, and it was obvious Ethan missed him. In fact, Ethan just liked people in general, and I like to think he appreciated me coming, even if I was being a massive burden.

He was also probably relieved I'm not avoiding him, I thought, brining about pangs of guilt. I certainly had been. And it wasn't anything to do with him. It was because I couldn't handle what had happened. And the fact that I had no clue if he had remembered it or not was what had made it all too much for me. What was I supposed to say to him? Should I say anything? If I don't and he does remember what would he say? If I don't, would he say something? I placed the hot water bottle down, and rested my face in my paws.

Ethan reappeared from the kitchen, and planted himself down on the sofa in a jump, sending me up slightly from the ground.

"It's been ages since I've had someone over. How are you feeling? You warm?"

"Yeah, thanks. I'm good." In truth, I wasn't too great. I was probably going to catch a cold, but I was at least no longer freezing, feeling fairly comfy in the blanket, the fireplace crackling in front of us. Ethan squinted at me inquisitively, as I tried to put on my best "healthy" face. The stag moved forwards, quickly crossing the gap between us, and planted a warm paw on my forehead. I reacted a second too late to move away, instead turning red with embarrassment. "You're still pretty cold."

"I feel warmer."

"Well, if it was hypothermia you'd be a lot worse off. You should be okay." Ethan spoke with the professionalism of a doctor. It made sense, he wanted to be one someday.

As quickly as it arrived, the professional in his voice vanished and he went back to his normal, cheery self.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"I think I might just go to sleep."

"Oh, of course." He said, his tone almost disappointed. He clearly wanted to spend time with me, though I don't think he was trying to make that obvious. I was exhausted, my entire body aching and eyes dipping, but something about his face looking back at me seemed to overpower both my need to sleep and my confusion. "I mean, if you wanna do something like that I'm happy to."

"Are you sure? You've had a crazy day man. It's probably best if you sleep." He was right, but still I insisted. Ethan turned on the TV above the fireplace and decided on an action movie I hadn't heard of but looked pretty good. I watched what must have been 5 minutes, and I was getting surprisingly into it, before everything slowly went black and the next thing I knew I was lying on a blowup mattress in Ethan's room. He must have carried me to bed.

I groaned quietly at the thought, and then again when I realised I hadn't eaten, but at this point I lacked the energy to care. My eyes half open, I peered through the darkness. The apprehension, the guilt and unease bottled up outside me seemed to fade as I watched the stag who had spent the night caring for me laying there, half of his bare chest slowly rising and falling as he slept. The blizzard outside looked almost peaceful, snow falling silently and gracefully past the window, as I closed my eyes, letting the calm finally washing over me.

There was still time, I told myself. Time for me to tell him again what I had first said at the party, when he was probably too drunk to remember anything. And I wanted to, not because he may have already heard, but because I had always wanted to tell him.

To tell him how I felt about him.