Eloise’s Pov.
The rain had stopped.
But the air outside still carried the scent of petrichor and something oddly electric–like the atmosphere itself had absorbed the tension between us.
Inside the cabin, all the windows were shut, trapping the warmth of the fire and the weight of something else…heavier. Invisible, yet suffocating in the best and worst ways.
Dante hadn't said much after dinner. He cleaned up in silence, his movements calm and meticulous. I'd sat on the plush velvet couch, legs tucked beneath me, pretending to scroll through my phone–but all I really did was steal glances at him.
He'd changed into a black long-sleeved shirt, rolled up at the forearms, and sweatpants that did little to hide how unfairly built he was. His body carried the quiet sound of strength. Not
