The moment He announced that the food was ready, my stomach let out a loud growl, loud enough to make me wince. The smell of roasted fish hit me, rich and smoky, and suddenly, my hunger wasn’t just a dull ache—it was a gnawing, unbearable need. I tried to remain composed, but I couldn’t stop myself from practically salivating in anticipation.

  "About time..." I muttered.

  I glanced around, noticing how dark it had become. The only source of light was the fire, its flickering glow casting shifting shadows across the cabin walls. The warmth was nice, but there was something eerie about the way it distorted our faces in the dim light. I didn’t hesitate to start eating, biting into the fish hungrily. But as I chewed, I became aware of his gaze lingering on me. The intensity of it made my stomach flip, and I wasn’t sure why.

  I swallowed, wiping the corner of my mouth. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

  He smirked. "Haven’t seen someone as ugly as you in a while, so I’m just processing how a handsome guy like me ended up sitting by your side. Hahaha."

  I stared at him, stunned. My mouth hung open in disbelief. He had the nerve—the absolute audacity—to call me ugly?

  "Hey, screw you! I’m not ugly, you jackass!"

  His grin widened. "what? You think you’re pretty, then?"

  I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. I wasn’t a model, but I didn’t think I was hideous either.

  " I... I mean, I’m not a goddamn model or anything, but, I don’t think I’m hideous either, if that’s what you’re asking."

  Without missing a beat, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "To me, you seem ethereal."

  I froze. The fire crackled beside us, but for a moment, it felt like the only thing burning was my face. Ethereal? Was he serious? I had grease on my chin, dirt smudged across my cheek, and my hair was a tangled mess—I was anything but ethereal right now.

  "Wow. Finally, a sign of intelligence popping out," I muttered. "Took you long enough."

  He chuckled, clearly satisfied with my comeback, but didn’t say anything. Just went back to his fish like he hadn’t just dropped a compliment bomb out of nowhere.

  Then he glanced over. "How’s the food? Do you like it?"

  I chewed thoughtfully, savouring the taste before answering.

  "It’s... actually pretty good. You did a good job."

  I smirked and added,

  "But I was really hoping I’d hate it — so I could rub it in your face."

  Chuckled again "You’re welcome, Ellie," he said, his gaze locking onto mine.

  I held his stare for a second too long before quickly looking away. Something about the way he looked at me made me feel on edge—like he knew something I didn’t. My stomach did that stupid flip again, knowing he was still watching me.

  "You... you’re still staring at me..."

  "Am I not allowed to stare at something I like?"

  My breath caught slightly. I felt an odd mix of irritation and flattery. His cocky attitude was infuriating, yet... there was something about it that made my heart race. I hated it.

  "Fine, stare all you want. Don’t expect me not to call you a creep, though."

  He laughed. "Hey, how should we sleep? Would you like sleep in the arms of this creepy man?" his grin widened

  I nearly choked on my food. "Do... do you honestly expect me say yes? I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Ridiculous."

  He shrugged. "Why not? That’s the warmest option. We can keep each other warm."

  The idea of sleeping next to him, sharing body heat, made my heart pound. I hated how much the thought appealed to me. But there was no way in hell I’d admit it.

  "I... I mean... it would be the warmest option, but I hate sleeping close to someone I barely know."

  He chuckled, like he already knew what I’d say. "I had no doubt you wouldn’t go for my brilliant idea."

  I clenched my jaw. Of course, he had noticed my hesitation. I had to hit harder.

  "It’s... it’s not that I don’t like the idea... I just don’t like the person I’d be sharing body heat with."

  His smirk grew. "Then I guess this means you’ll be sleeping outside the cabin, since you despise me so much."

  I blinked. "Wait, what?"

  For a moment, I just stared at him, my stomach twisting. He had to be joking.

  He wasn’t actually going to make me sleep outside.

  The cold night wind had already started seeping through my jacket, biting at my skin.

  I hated sleeping outside. I had to push back on his childish game.

  " why should I be the one to sleep outside?" I snapped. “It’s not fair for me to sleep on the cold ground while you get the nice, comfy cabin that I HAVE CLEANED."

  He lifted his head like a cocky, arrogant asshole and said,

  "Rejecting me should have consequences — especially when you decide to be mean."

  He reached over and poked my forehead with a devilish grin.

  "Just a reminder — I’m the one who found the cabin. If it weren’t for me, you’d be sleeping outside anyway."

  Then he burst out laughing.

  I scowled, watching him laugh at my expense. I was completely disappointed in him. The cabin was big enough for us to sleep separately — he had to be messing with me. But the thought of him discarding me so easily, so casually, made my chest tighten.

  He’d made me forget, just for a day, what it felt like to be completely alone.

  And now, the familiar loneliness crept back in — the one that had always been there.

  I clenched my jaw, refusing to let any disappointment show. My pride screamed at me not to give in, not to let him see any weakness.

  "Ugh... Fine. Whatever. I probably prefer fresh air over tolerating your stink all night."

  He crossed his arms.

  "And I will enjoy watching you shiver in the cold. Hahaha."

  I stood up, shook the dust from my clothes, ready to grab my stuff and head outside — when I heard him say:

  "Do you need a hand setting up somewhere, or you got it covered?"

  I gave him a nasty look.

  "I don’t need your damn help."

  He shrugged.

  "Hey, you can take a blanket or two from the cabin. I saw some old dusty ones in the corner."

  I hesitated. The idea of extra warmth was tempting — very tempting. But I didn’t want it to feel like a Favor.

  "Fine. Whatever... it’s not your damn blanket anyway," I muttered, keeping my voice flat.

  He didn’t say anything — just grinned like he’d won something.

  I hated that grin. Without another word, I walked toward the cabin, pushing open the creaky door. A damp, musty smell filled my nose, thick with the dust of long-forgotten days. The fire he had made was still burning, casting distorted shadows along the walls. Somewhere in the rafters, a faint scuttling noise made me freeze for a second, but I forced myself to move.

  I spotted a couple of old, raggedy-looking blankets in the corner and picked one up. It wasn’t the warmest, but it was better than nothing. I grabbed another and turned to leave—only to slam straight into someone.

  I stumbled back, blinking. My eyes met his, and my heart skipped a beat.

  "What the—? Hey, what are you doing?"

  He stood right behind me, way closer than I expected. A small smirk played on his lips.

  Before I could step back, his fingers brushed against mine as he grabbed my hand, making the blanket slip from my grasp.

  I should’ve pulled away. I wanted to. But my body betrayed me — frozen under his stare.

  "Do you really think I’d let you sleep outside?" he asked, his voice softer now.

  "You don’t take me for a gentleman, do you?"

  I blinked. He was too close — so close it threw off my balance, scrambled my thoughts.

  "I knew you were messing with me... I was just playing along to see when you'd drop your stupid act."

  If I was being honest with myself, I had a feeling things might be different with him — but I was still waiting for the usual pattern to show up.

  In every group I’d ever been in, it was always the same:

  People looked out for themselves.

  The stronger ones always got the better food, the warmer beds, the best weapons — they took whatever they wanted.

  No one showed sympathy. Not without a reason.

  And when they did? It meant there was a price.

  So yeah — his selfish teasing? That would’ve made sense.

  But kindness? That scares me more.

  His voice broke through my thoughts.

  "Sorry. I’ve got a bad habit of teasing my friends." His grin widened. "Especially the ones I like."

  "What!...?"

  I struggled to conceal my surprise at his words.

  Friends? The word felt foreign on his lips.

  People didn’t just throw that around — not in this world, not without a price.

  Up until now, I’d mostly considered him a snarky, annoying smartass.

  Was he really being genuine? Or was there something else behind it?

  "You… you consider us friends?"

  "Of course dumbass. I see you as a friend. I figure your life’s been tough — that’s why you don’t trust easily. So I’ll let you drop your guard at your own pace."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I snorted. He wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t seen much kindness in my life. Getting close to people wasn’t just hard — it was unnatural. So hearing him call me a friend felt like a glitch in the system.

  But… if he was being genuine?

  "You’re right. I don’t make friends quickly, jackass."

  I folded my arms, avoiding his gaze. Then, after a brief pause, I muttered, "But… I guess I consider you a friend too… even though you’re a major prick."

  He grinned. "I assure you, you haven’t even seen my prick face yet. Hahaha."

  I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help cracking a small smile. His nonchalant attitude was annoying as hell, but it was also kind of amusing.

  "Yeah, you definitely are a prick. A huge one."

  I chuckled, just for a moment. but my mind kept circling back to what he had said.

  Friends.

  It was such a simple word, yet it felt strange for me. I had spent so long surviving alone that I had almost forgotten what that word even meant.

  With a pure, innocent curiosity, I found myself asking, "So, we’re really friends now?"

  "Yup," he said without hesitation. "And to prove that, you can take the old carpet in the corner. Should be comfy enough."

  I glanced at the ragged carpet, and as much as I hated to admit it, it looked better than sleeping on the cold floor.

  "You’re sure you don’t mind me taking the carpet? Apparently, it’s your cabin since you found it," I added sarcastically.

  "Nope," he said casually. Then, after a pause, "But are you sure you don’t mind me sleeping in the cabin as well?"

  That damn grin again.

  "I’ll be intimately close to you."

  "My heart skipped a beat, my cheeks warming. The idea of him sleeping inside the cabin with me—sharing a small, cramped space all night—made me feel flustered and conflicted. I quickly tried to squash those thoughts and instead played it cool, pretending I didn’t care. But the word came out wrong:

  “No I don’t mind. The cabin is warmer.” I instantly ate my words, the heat in my cheeks intensifying after a few seconds of silence. "If you sleep outside and catch a cold, you’ll be more trouble for me."

  I pointed to the far corner of the room. "But you sleep over there."

  He didn’t say anything. Just smiled.

  And now, more than ever, I wanted to know what he was trying to achieve by asking that. He was an annoying prick, but damn if he didn’t have a certain charm about him.

  "I guess you want to clean up a bit," he said suddenly. "You have mud and dirt all over your face. It’s cold outside, so I’ll bring you a wet cloth to clean yourself up by the fireplace. I also need to get more wood to keep the fire going through the night."

  I stared at him, caught off guard.

  Was he seriously offering to help?

  For a second, I considered rejecting it — just to be stubborn, just to prove I didn’t need anyone. The thought of wiping off the grime and sweat by the fire was tempting. Too tempting. But my pride? Still bigger than my comfort.

  I looked up, ready to shut him down — but he was already gone.

  Stepped outside. Vanished into the dark.

  I sat in the corner, lost in thought. My mind replayed the events of the day—how I met him, how he healed my wound, the way he kept me on my toes. The way he teased me, his kindness, his assholism, his smile, the way he shifted from playful to serious and back again in an instant.

  Thinking about it made my heart beat faster. It had only been less than a day, but it felt like days. Almost like I had known him longer than I actually had. But the way he treated me, the way he talked, the way he looked at me—it felt as if he had known me for a long time.

  And yet… something about him felt different. Unsettling, but not in a bad way. Like he knew me better than I knew him. And for some damn reason, I didn’t hate it.

  Minutes passed, and I started feeling his absence more and more. It made me restless.

  "Hey, where are you? It’s cold in here, the fire is fading," I called out.

  Silence.

  I huffed, irritation bubbling up. How long does it take to soak a cloth and grab some wood?

  "Dude, where are you? Damn it, you are so slow."

  The cabin door creaked open, the cold night air slithering in before I saw him. I scowled, ready to throw out some sarcastic remark about whether he got lost, but then my eyes caught on something in his hands. A dark plastic bag dangled from his hand, the faint outline of a faded logo barely visible in the dim firelight.

  I frowned. A plastic bag? I haven’t seen one of those in ages.

  "What’s that?" I asked, curiosity outweighing my annoyance. "Where’d you find a bag like that?"

  He smirked. "Something you might love to have."

  He dropped the wood in one hand onto the floor, then reached inside the bag and pulled out something I hadn’t seen in years—a brand-new towel.

  My breath hitched. My eyes widened.

  "W-Where did you find that?"

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he simply handed it to me, his expression unreadable. I took it cautiously, running my fingers over the soft material. It felt almost unreal.

  "How on earth did you find this?"

  Still, no answer. Just that smug, satisfied look on his face, like he was enjoying keeping me in suspense. It was starting to get on my nerves.

  "You’re not gonna tell me, are you?" I muttered, rubbing the towel against my cheek.

  he leaned against the wall. "I want you to guess."

  I exhaled sharply, already annoyed by his games.

  "Fine, I’ll guess. Did you steal it from an infected?"

  He burst into laughter. "Hahaha! So you do have a sense of humour."

  I smiled despite my irritation. But I couldn’t let go of my curiosity. Where the hell did he find this? Stuff like that belonged to an era long gone. I knew he wasn’t going to give me a straight answer, so I decided to give up.

  "We’re in the middle of nowhere. So no — I have no idea.” I was completely mesmerized by the feeling of the soft towel on my face — but my voice stayed sharp.

  "I know this is some kind of a game for you. So tell me, don’t tell me — I don’t care."

  He watched me with that same amused expression.

  He finally caved. "I got the towel from a city half a day from here. The trip was worth it just to see your smile."

  I narrowed my eyes. Bullshit.

  "What do you take me for?" I scoffed. "You were gone for half an hour at most, and you expect me to believe you travelled to a city half a day away? You must think I’m an idiot."

  he simply shrugged. "Did you forget my powers?"

  I froze, eyeing him carefully.

  "Your… power? You mean the healing?"

  "Good. At least you acknowledge one of them."

  My frown deepened. What the hell is he talking about?

  "Is there any other power you have besides healing?"

  His smirk widened. "You forgot that after I healed your arm, I vanished in front of your eyes and later appeared behind you?"

  I hesitated. That was true. He had disappeared when I was facing away… and later reappeared behind me, scaring me half to death. But I hadn’t thought much of it at the time— I assumed he’d just hidden somewhere at first, then snuck up on me when I was distracted.

  I crossed my arms. "To be honest, I didn’t literally see you vanish. I had my back to you, so for all I know, you could’ve just ducked into a bush or something. Don’t blame me for doubting, shady man."

  He chuckled. "Believe it or not, I teleported to a nearby town and got you the towel and some cleaning supplies."

  Teleportation? My brain refused to process it. Healing was one thing—maybe there was some scientific explanation behind that—but this? No way. People didn’t just vanish and reappear like that.

  "You expect me to believe that? What’s next, mind reading? Flying?"

  He grinned—a slow, almost wicked grin. "Do you believe me if I say I can do those too?"

  I scoffed. He’s definitely bullshitting. If he could do that… why did he stay with me in this dump instead of somewhere better?

  "So you tell me that You teleported all that way for a towel? That’s some dedication, man. I don’t buy it. No one has these kinds of abilities. And even if I assume you do, why waste it on me? Why not use it for something important?"

  his playful smirk faded. I couldn’t read his expression—couldn’t predict his next joke or sarcastic remark. He just… looked at me.

  And then, quietly—too quietly—he said, "I don’t see anything more important than you."

  My breath caught. My fingers tightened on the towel, the soft fabric suddenly rough against my skin. A flush crept up my cheek, betraying my desperate attempt to look indifferent.

  The flickering fire cast shadows across his face as he held my gaze, unwavering.

  Then, just as smoothly, he continued, "Besides, you act as if you’ve seen other people capable of healing. And yet, you deny teleportation."

  All at once, my face heated up. My heart pounded, my stomach flipped, my hands went cold—and yet, somehow, I still chuckled at his comment.

  I’m the most important thing? What the hell is wrong with him and his bold remarks?

  I forced myself to act unaffected, even though my body betrayed me.

  "Okay, okay, you got me there," I admitted. "I’ve never seen anyone with powers before. But still, I thought the healing was a trick or some kind of medical spray. Something scientific. Not… yo-ho magic."

  His expression darkened, his face scrunching up in disappointment.

  "It’s a bit disappointing that you don’t believe me," he muttered. "Here, take these."

  He handed me the bag. I opened it, and the second I saw what was inside, my breath hitched.

  Shampoo. Soap. Body spray. Lotion.

  I hadn’t seen any of these in decades. My fingers traced the bottles, half-expecting them to disappear like an illusion. They looked too pristine, too clean—too surreal.

  A lump formed in my throat. Guilt twisted in my chest. I had doubted him, mocked his abilities, and yet here he was, handing me things I hadn’t even dared to dream about. I tried to fix my mistake, desperate to undo my earlier skepticism.

  "Hey, I’m sorry, okay?" I said, my voice softer now. "It’s not easy to believe something like this, but… I do appreciate what you did for me. I love them. I don’t want to make excuses, but it’s been so long since I’ve felt any kindness from anyone. I guess I forgot how to trust people’s words."

  He studied me for a long moment, then smirked.

  "There’s only one way I’ll forgive you."

  I groaned, already bracing myself for whatever ridiculous demand was about to come out of his mouth.

  "Alright, fine. What do I have to do?"

  He leaned in slightly, his voice teasing but firm.

  "Kiss me."

  I knew it. I knew it was going to be something like this.

  My eye twitched. "Fine. But you're not allowed to move your head again like last time."

  I dictated my condition like a teacher disciplining a student. But instead of agreeing, he turned his face away slightly, his gaze flickering toward me from the corner of his eye.

  "I want a real kiss," he said smoothly. "Something romantic. Not like before. Otherwise, I won’t forgive you for your distrust."

  My brain short-circuited. My breath caught in my throat and my heart started slamming against my ribs. Did I hear that right?

  "W-What the hell?! You want me to—kiss you?" My voice cracked slightly, and I hated how unsteady I sounded. "Are you serious?”

  "Dead serious."

  I swallowed hard, struggling to process his request. This was happening too soon. I knew it would be crossing a line, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to take that step.

  "Ugh… you’re really going to be upset with me if I don’t kiss you?"

  He nodded.

  I was at a loss for words. My mind was waging war with itself—part of me wanted to resist, to push him away and call him an arrogant bastard. But another part of me, a part I didn’t want to acknowledge, was tempted.

  It was infuriating how persistent he was. But it was even more infuriating that I didn’t hate it. I mumbled:

  "You’re so damn stubborn, you know that?"

  "Likewise."

  I let out an exasperated sigh, still wrestling with my emotions. His arrogance should have pissed me off, but for some reason, it only made my pulse quicken.

  "Alright, fine," I muttered. "If it shuts you up, I’ll kiss you. But only a quick kiss, alright? We’re still just friends, after all."

  I barely finished my sentence when his hand reached behind my head, gently pulling me closer.

  His lips met mine. warm, firm, demanding. A deep, passionate kiss that stole the breath from my lungs.

  The second our lips touched, my body locked up—just for a split second. A reflex, deep-rooted, automatic. My brain whispered warnings, flashing memories I’d long buried. But then… nothing happened.

  A flicker of unease passed through me. I had spent years fighting off unwanted hands, learning to shut down at the first sign of closeness.

  But this… this was different.

  He wasn’t forcing, wasn’t demanding. Just… waiting.

  And maybe that was why I didn’t pull away.

  I gasped as he pulled me closer, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I had expected it to be a quick, chaste kiss, but the way he held my head firmly, possessively made it clear he had other plans.

  My thoughts were a tangled mess. One moment I wanted to push him away, the next… my pulse quickened, a strange warmth spreading through me, I found myself becoming lost in the kiss, my body betraying me as I leaned into him. I knew I should pull away, but I couldn’t find the strength.

  By the time he pulled back, I was dizzy, breathless, and completely undone.

  "God… damn…"

  I stood there, breathless. My lips still tingled, the taste of him lingering—warm and electric, like something I shouldn’t crave. My fingers twitched, aching to touch my lips, to confirm this wasn’t some heat-induced hallucination.

  My emotions were tangled in a mess of desire and confusion, and I hated how much I wanted more.

  I gulped, my voice so quiet it was barely more than a thought. "I’ve never been kissed like that before."

  He studied my face, his expression unreadable. His hand reached for my cheek—warm, large, his fingers grazing my skin all the way to my ear. A soft, almost tender smile appeared on his lips before he finally spoke.

  "I’ll step outside to give you some time to clean up and get ready for sleep."

  He turned and walked out of the room without another word. without pushing. Without asking for more. Without acting like he owned me.

  I stood there, frozen, my body still shaking from what had just happened. I could still feel his touch lingering on my skin, his scent mixed with the warmth of the fire.

  I took a deep breath and peeked outside. He was lying on the grass by the river, watching the sky.

  I tried to focus on getting ready for bed, but my mind refused to cooperate. I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss—the way his lips had felt on mine, the way his touch had sent waves of heat through me.

  I stripped off my dirty clothes and wiped myself down with the miraculously clean towel and fresh-smelling soap. The scent of body spray filled my lungs, stirring ghosts of a life I could barely remember—a life where warm showers weren’t a luxury, where soap wasn’t a treasure, where people still laughed without fear of being hunted.

  I changed into clean clothes, lost in thought, before settling down on the carpet and blankets on the floor.

  But despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shake off the memory of his kiss.

  I tossed and turned, trying to sleep. It was impossible.

  His lips. His touch. His presence.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but the thoughts kept creeping back, curling around me like a ghost I couldn’t escape.

  A mix of desire, confusion, and guilt tangled inside me.

  And I had no idea which feeling would win.