Chapter 13: The Quiet Between Storms
433 Words
The cabin was hidden deep in the Swiss woods, a place so quiet that even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Snow dusted the pines outside, and the world felt frozen in a fragile calm that Liam hadn’t felt in years.
He stood by the window, shirtless, the fresh bandages across his shoulder still faintly stained with blood. His reflection in the frosted glass looked almost unfamiliar—tired, scarred, but alive.
Behind him, Amelia stirred on the couch, wrapped in a wool blanket too big for her small frame. The firelight painted her face in soft gold, her lashes fluttering as she woke.
“You’re up early,” she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep.
Liam turned, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Habit. My body doesn’t understand what ‘rest’ means anymore.”
She sat up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe it’s time it learned.”
For a moment, silence filled the room—gentle, almost sacred. The air between them carried all the words they hadn’t said since Geneva. Fear. Relief. The unspoken bond that had formed when they nearly lost each other.
Amelia’s gaze dropped to his shoulder. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when I breathe,” he joked lightly. Then, seeing the worry in her eyes, he softened. “It’ll heal. I’ve had worse.”
She stood, walking closer, her fingers brushing over the bandages. “That’s what you always say. But I saw your face when the bullet hit.”
Liam caught her hand gently. “And yet, here I am.”
Their eyes met—steady, quiet, but full of something neither could disguise anymore.
The fire cracked, and Amelia whispered, “I thought I’d lost you.”
“You almost did,” he admitted. “But I made a promise, remember? I told you I’d get you out of Geneva alive.”
“And you did.” She smiled faintly. “Even when it nearly killed you.”
He looked away, as if the weight of her gratitude was heavier than any bullet. “That’s what I do, Amelia. Protect people. Even if I have to break myself in the process.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, Liam. You don’t just protect people. You protect me.”
The words hung in the air, fragile and real.
For once, Liam didn’t have an answer.
Outside, snow began to fall again—soft, silent, endless. And inside the little cabin, two hearts that had survived war began, quietly, to learn how to beat again.
- Writer
