Never Let You Go

“Oh my god, it’s so cold,” Leisha huffs out, her teeth chattering around the words. “I’m freezing my arse off out here, seriously, I have never been this cold in my entire life.”

Yasmin doesn’t lift her head from where it’s resting against Leisha’s shoulder, the press of her body warm all down Leisha’s side. “Should’ve worn a proper coat, then, shouldn’t you?”

Her voice is as biting as the wintry wind blowing Leisha’s hair into her face and tugging on the ends of Yasmin’s headscarf, and Leisha’s frozen face cracks in a grin.

She flicks her head, pushing the hand not tangled with Yasmin’s through her hair in a mostly fruitless attempt to refute the wind’s efforts. Yasmin tosses her a despairing eye roll but she squeezes her hand and Leisha squeezes back, rubbing a thumb across Yasmin’s gloved hand. It feels like a slab of ice, even through the knitted fabric, and Leisha’s grip tightens.

“My hoodie is fine,” she says, the token protest a few moments too late to be convincing, “my hoodie is wonderful. It’s just so cold, I have no idea why you’d want to come out here.”

There’s a beat, then, “We can go back in,” Yasmin says, quietly, “if you want, I mean. It is really cold.”

“Nah,” Leisha says, slipping her hand out of Yasmin’s so she can wrap her arm around her waist instead. She splays her fingers over Yasmin’s stomach, pressing lightly, feeling the softness Yasmin is forever complaining about, the softness Leisha doesn’t know why she’d ever want to lose. “You want to stay, don’t you?”

Yasmin blows out a breath, slowly, watches it disintegrate in the air in front of her. “Yeah,” she says, and her voice is that kind of tired which makes Leisha squirm with how much she wants to bundle her best friend into her arms and never ever let her go.

“Okay, then,” Leisha says, like it’s that simple. “It isn’t even that bad, really, I’m just a wimp.”

“You really kind of are,” Yasmin says, chuckling when Leisha makes a wounded noise.

“You’re not supposed to agree with me,” she says, pushing Yasmin away and pressing her lips together in a purposefully stupid pout. “You’re supposed to tell me how awesome I am.”

Yasmin gives Leisha that look, the one with the raised eyebrows and pursed lips, the one that says you are very silly, I don’t know why I put up with you. Leisha grins back at her, wide and bright and ridiculous enough that Yasmin just laughs, shaking her head.

“I tell you how awesome you are all the time,” she says, lips still pulled up into a half-grin, “you just never listen.”

Leisha’s smile dims, just a little, just enough for Yasmin to notice. She pulls Yasmin in closer, tucks her head under her chin and whispers, “I do,” against her forehead, “I always, always listen.”

Yasmin doesn’t say anything but she shifts enough that she can hug Leisha back without one of her arms falling asleep. They stay like that for, god, Leisha doesn’t even know, but it doesn’t feel like eternity, it feels like it’s been no time at all when Yasmin pulls away and smiles up at her. Leisha doesn’t let go, not fully, it’s too cold for them not to huddle like penguins, but they’re only leaning into each other now, sharing each others’ scant body heat.

“You okay?” Yasmin says, tipping her head so it rests on Leisha’s shoulder again, and Leisha bites her lip.

“Yeah,” she says, so quietly it’s more an exhalation of breath than anything else. “You?”

“Oh, I’m fantastic,” Yasmin says, and Leisha laughs because it’s not even a little bit sarcastic, even though Yasmin probably meant it to come out that way. Leisha can hear the smile in her voice even if she can’t see it on her face.

“You really kind of are,” Leisha says, because it’s true, but Yasmin laughs like she doesn’t think Leisha’s serious.

Leisha laughs too, looping an arm around Yasmin’s waist and squeezing. She thinks about everything that’s happened in the three years they’ve known each other and, god, has it really only been three years? It feels like forever, sometimes. She thinks about everything Yasmin’s been through and it makes something ache in her chest, something twist in her gut, and she thinks you are, Yasmin, you really, really are.

Yasmin shifts out of her grip suddenly, says, “Let’s go back inside, come on. It really is kind of freezing out here.”

“Oh thank god,” Leisha says fervently, jumping to her feet. “I was worried I might actually have to carry you back inside if we stayed out here any longer.”

Yasmin rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she sniffs, “you couldn’t carry me anywhere.”

“Hey,” Leisha protests, “I’ll have you know I am deceptively strong. I could so carry you.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather not put that to the test,” Yasmin says, but there’s a grin starting at the corners of her lips. “Your mum would probably kill me if I squashed you to death.”

“Well, your mum will definitely kill me if you get hypothermia and die so, you know,” Leisha counters, grabbing Yasmin by the arm and steering her away. She loosens her grip after a few seconds, slipping her arm out of Yasmin’s and reaching for her hand instead.

“Thanks,” Yasmin says quietly when they’re only a few feet away from the doors, and Leisha smiles.

“You’re welcome,” she says, squeezing Yasmin’s fingers tight before following her inside.