The night stretched on, and their bodies moved together with more certainty now, more rhythm. They weren't fumbling. They weren't pretending.
They knew each other.
And they wanted this.
Not for escape. Not for some high or distraction.
Just because it felt right.
Because after everything—the pressure, the danger, the expectations—this was theirs. This one moment, this one space, this one night, belonged only to them.
And no one could take that away.
Ethan shifted a little, guiding Everly onto her back, and she didn't hesitate.
She let him, her hand gliding slowly across his side, her fingers finding the curve of his shoulder and resting there.
He stayed like that for a moment, his gaze locked on hers, her lips parted, her breath uneven, the flush in her cheeks spreading down her neck and chest.
He could see her, not just the physical person beneath him, but the emotions, the feelings, the trust, the vulnerability.
All the things people try to hide but can't anymore.
