The fireflies drifted around us in slow, glowing circles, almost like they were giving us their blessing. I wiped the last of my tears with the back of my hand, even though Damon's thumb had already done most of the work. The air felt cooler against my skin now, and the soft breeze carried the scent of flowers from the edge of the cliff. It was peaceful. Too peaceful, honestly. I was scared to breathe too loudly and break it.
Damon's hand found mine, warm and steady. He squeezed lightly, and I squeezed back.
"Come," he said.
His voice sounded gentler than usual, the kind he only used when we were alone.
We walked toward the steaming pool near the mountain. The warm mist drifted upward in soft waves, brushing against my face as if it was welcoming us. The ground under my feet felt soft, almost springy with the way the grass grew thick around the water. Somewhere behind us, the waterfall murmured quietly, adding to the calmness that had settled between us.
