I sat still, my head lightly resting on his shoulder. My heart wasn't pounding anymore, but every beat felt sharper than ever.

  He hadn't pulled away.

  He stayed. Silent, warm, real.

  I didn't know how long we sat like that. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. Time felt strange inside the cave, trapped in the dark.

  Will carefully turned his head, and I felt his chin brush my hair.

  "I'm not cold anymore," I mumbled, mostly just to say something.

  "That's because I'm warm," he answered softly, a faint smile in his voice.

  I smiled too. A small, crooked smile that only he could draw out of me at that moment.

  "You better not get used to this," I said half-jokingly. "This doesn't mean I like you."

  He leaned his head back against the rock wall and exhaled. "Too late."

  I looked up at him—but he had his eyes closed. As if he didn't dare see my reaction. As if he already knew it.

  And maybe he did.

  I said nothing more. I let my hand slowly slide down over his, where it rested between us. My fingertips brushed his knuckles. Neither of us pulled away.

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  Outside the cave, only the wind could be heard. No more screams. No more chaos.

  Just stillness.

  But it was temporary.

  And we both knew it.

  His hand remained under mine. The stillness was so fragile I barely dared to breathe, afraid I would shatter it. But I couldn't help but look up at him.

  He still had his eyes closed, but I saw his jaw clench slightly—as if he was fighting something. Or trying to hold it back.

  "Will," I whispered.

  He opened his eyes. Dark. Shining. Like the night outside, but softer beneath the surface.

  "I know you hate when I talk about feelings," I continued, my voice low, almost a whisper. "But I need to say this."

  He said nothing. He waited.

  "I don't know when it happened," I said. "But you... you mean something to me. And that scares me more than the curse. More than the forest. More than all of this."

  Will exhaled slowly. Then he turned fully toward me.

  "Tracy," he said, and his voice was something I'd never heard from him before. Soft. Low. Close.

  "When I thought I wouldn't make it back... there was only one thing I kept thinking about."

  "What?"

  "That I'd never touched you like this. Never been close. Never said..."

  He fell silent. But he didn't have to finish.

  He let his forehead rest lightly against mine. Just a breath between us. Nothing rushed. Nothing forced. Just the need to be close. To stay close.

  I closed my eyes. Let everything else fade away.

  His hand found my cheek, gently, as if he was afraid I would break. His thumb brushed along my jawline.

  "If we die tomorrow," he whispered, "I want you to know I chose you. Even before you knew who you were."

  I leaned in closer, feeling his breath against my skin. And when our lips met, it wasn't dramatic or grand.

  It was still.

  Like something finally falling into place in the world.