HIS POV
The cabin had settled into a soft kind of chaos after dinner. Plates clinked faintly in the sink, the sound of laughter drifted from the living room, and the air still carried the warmth of spices Amara had coaxed from simple ingredients.
I told myself it was just food. That was all. But the truth was more complicated, lingering like the aftertaste of something I couldn't quite name.
When Luke suggested everyone clean up and "reset" before gathering in the living room, I didn't argue. A shower sounded like a way to clear my head.
Steam filled the small bathroom quickly, and I lingered under the water longer than I intended. The warmth did little to untangle the mess in my mind, but at least it gave me an excuse not to think, if only for a while. When I stepped out, I pulled on a plain t-shirt and sweats, keeping things simple.
I opened the door at the same time another door across the hall clicked.
Her door.
Amara stepped out, towel draped over one shoulder, her hair damp and dripping in dark rivulets down her back. She'd changed into simple pajamas a soft, loose shirt and drawstring bottoms that should have been ordinary. But ordinary on her was something else entirely.
For a fraction of a second, we both froze, like two people caught in the same thought but unwilling to speak it aloud.
"Hey," she said first, tucking a damp strand behind her ear. Her voice was light, casual, but I caught the faint hesitation beneath it.
"Hey," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
A drop of water slid from her hair onto her collar, disappearing into the fabric. I looked away too quickly, pretending it hadn't caught my attention.
"Heading to the living room?" she asked, shifting her towel from one hand to the other.
"Yeah," I said. "You?"
She smiled faintly. "Same. Emily will drag me out if I don't show up."
I allowed the corner of my mouth to tilt, the closest thing I gave to a smile in moments like these. "Then let's go before she does."
We walked side by side down the hall, silence stretching but not uncomfortable. Something about the nearness of her was distracting the faint scent of soap, the way her wet hair clung to her shoulders, the softness of her footsteps on the wooden floor.
The living room was already alive when we stepped in. Damian sprawled across one couch like he owned the place, Luke balanced a bowl of chips on his lap, and Emily was scrolling on her phone until she noticed us.
"Took you long enough," she teased, her eyes flicking between us with far too much interest.
Amara rolled her eyes and sank into the space beside Emily, while I chose the armchair nearby. I kept my posture relaxed, though my attention betrayed me more than I liked.
At first, the games were simple. Damian dug up a deck of cards from somewhere, and we played a half-hearted round of blackjack. Luke suggested a guessing game, and soon the room was filled with laughter as Emily dramatically failed at mimicking a lion. Even I couldn't hide a short chuckle.
It was easy, strangely so. The kind of evening where nothing mattered except the warmth of company, where the world outside the cabin didn't exist. I almost let myself forget the heaviness of my own thoughts until Damian leaned forward suddenly, a grin spreading across his face.
"All right, enough of this boring stuff," he declared. "Truth or dare."
Emily clapped her hands immediately. "Yes! Finally."
Luke groaned. "We're too old for this."
"You're never too old," Damian shot back. "Besides, it'll make things interesting." His eyes gleamed with mischief, and I knew from experience that meant nothing good.
Amara tilted her head, hesitant but curious. "Truth or dare?"
Damian nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. You know the rules someone picks, we ask or we dare, no backing out."
Emily leaned toward Amara, whispering something that made her laugh softly. I didn't catch the words, but I noticed the way she relaxed into the moment.
Luke sighed, setting down the chip bowl. "Fine. But if anyone dares me to run outside in the cold, I'm out."
Damian smirked. "No promises."
I stayed silent, though my gaze lingered on Amara. She seemed both intrigued and cautious, caught between her natural reserve and the infectious energy of the group. And I knew, without needing to hear it, that at some point Damian would drag her into the spotlight. He was relentless like that.
The circle formed tighter. The air shifted, playful yet charged, like the edge of something about to unravel.
I leaned back in my chair, arms folded, letting my expression give nothing away. But inside, I already knew...this game wouldn't stay harmless for long. Not with Damian stirring it. Not with her here.
And not with me noticing her more than I should.