The storm passed in the early hours of the morning, leaving the world washed in a pale silver dawn. The quiet that followed felt almost sacred—like the earth itself was exhaling after holding tension too long. Evelyn woke to the soft hum of rain clinging to the window, its faint rhythm syncing with her breathing.
Warmth pressed against her back.
River's arm lay draped around her waist, his body curled protectively as if instinct alone refused to let her drift beyond his reach. His breath brushed the back of her neck in slow, steady waves, each one a reminder of the fragile peace they'd fought for the night before.
For a moment, she didn't move. She simply felt—his presence, his heartbeat, the way his fingers barely tightened each time she shifted. It was new, this unspoken tenderness. Not absence of conflict, but a gentler truth growing between them.
She turned slowly.
