Crimson’s gaze lingered on Solstace, each meticulous fold of the tent sending a prickling wave of irritation up her spine. The deliberate calmness of his actions stoked the storm of frustration swirling in her chest like wind lashing at turbulent seas. The early morning sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows that danced around them. The forest was alive with the sound of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air between them.
Leaning against the tree, Crimson’s eyebrow arched in a facade of amusement as the rhythmic tapping of her foot against the earth echoed her growing impatience. The early morning sun cast a serene glow through the trees, a stark contrast to the simmering tension between Crimson and Solstace, as visible a
