↷✦; w e l c o m e ❞
That morning, the sun shone brighter, reflecting the shimmer of thousands of ice crystals on the frozen snow. Zevanya Delton couldn't sleep soundly. Under the covers, she rubbed her neck, feeling the warmth of Mathius' woolen scarf.
Although her father had been furious the previous night because she had come home drenched in dirty clothes, the memory of Geo's kindness was far stronger.
The next day, right after school, Zevanya didn't return to her grand mansion. She put on a thick woolen coat and quietly strolled out the back gate. Her feet treaded steadily towards the edge of the pine forest.
The old hut was still there. And as she expected, Geo was sitting on a worn wooden block in front of the door, repairing a torn kite.
"I thought you wouldn't come," Geo greeted, not taking his eyes off the sewing thread in his hand.
"You promised to be my shelter," Zevanya replied bluntly.
Geo smiled faintly. "The storm's over. But if you want, I can be your playmate."
That day, for the first time in her life, Zevanya forgot who she was and what family she came from. Geo taught her how to make a kite fly high.
They ran through the snow, laughing heartily every time their kite dipped. Geo, usually quiet and serious due to his father's strict upbringing, seemed alive. Zevanya, always tense from her parents' drama, felt free.
They played until the sun began to set, painting the sky a melancholy orange and purple. The warmth of the hot chocolate Geo had given her yesterday was replaced by the warmth of their laughter.
For a few hours, the land of Berlin and Delton felt less like a battlefield than like their secret playground.
"Anya," Geo called as they rested, their breaths coming in short gasps.
"Yes, Geo?"
"I... I'm moving." Her voice sounded hesitant.
Zevanya's world seemed to stop spinning. The orange sky felt like it was collapsing on top of her. "Moving? Where?"
"To the capital. Father said he has a big business trip there. Maybe for a long time."
Zevanya's tears immediately flowed. "You lied. You said you'd be my shelter! How can I find shelter if you're not here?"
Geo panicked. He wasn't good at comforting. He took something out of his pocket—an old compass with the initials M.G.B. engraved on the back.
"Here," Geo said, placing the compass in Zevanya's hand. "This compass will always point north. Towards me. Even though I'm far away, my heart will always be here, in this place."
He held Zevanya's shoulders. "Listen carefully, Anya. I promise, I'll come back. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after. But I will come back, and when I do, there will be no more family walls separating us. I promise, I'll protect you forever."
Zevanya looked at the compass in her hand, then into Geo's determined eyes. She knew the promise was sincere. That night, Zevanya returned home, heartbroken by the separation, but also filled with hope for the promise carved deep beneath the cold snow.
The promise of a boy who would return to be her shelter.