Cassian slows down once we're deep in the woods; he stops and lets me down gently.
The air around us carries the earthy scent of damp moss and pine and the sounds of crickets and flowing water.
“Come on,” he holds out his hand, and I don’t waste time and slip my fingers into his.
Cassian leads me through the tangled undergrowth.
My bare feet stumble over roots, my thin nightgown clinging to my skin from the damp mist, but his strong hand grips mine, guiding me with unwavering certainty.
I stop when we reach a secluded river, with boulders peeking out, its surface shimmering like liquid silver under the moon’s pale glow, and there's a small old cottage and an old greenhouse covered in moss.
It feels peaceful…
I wish we could stay here forever, me and Cassian… But that's not possible,
