A couple of nights had passed, and I was starting to feel more comfortable around him.

  Despite his constant, irritating flirtiness, he was surprisingly easy to be around.

  Things weren’t as dull or cold as they used to be — there was a strange warmth threading through me now. Low, quiet, but real.

  We’d decided to stay in the cabin a few more days before moving on. It was decent shelter, and scavenging food nearby wasn’t impossible.

  It was dark outside. I was curled up on my makeshift bed, half-asleep. He had stepped out earlier without a word — probably just to take a leak. I didn’t think much of it.

  Then, just as I was drifting off, a soft whisper sliced through the quiet.

  “Would you like a cuddle?”

  I flinched, my breath catching at the sudden voice so close. "What the—"

  A sharp gasp escaped me as I felt someone ease in behind me. I hadn’t heard the door. No footsteps. Nothing.

  One second, I was alone…The next, he was right there.

  I turned my head sharply, eyes widening as I saw him sitting close, calm as ever.

  My heartbeat quickened, tangled in surprise, confusion, and that strange, electric flicker of excitement I didn’t want to admit.

  "You… you’re back inside. When did you come back?"

  He smirked. “Don’t worry — it was when you still had your clothes on and were half asleep. We share the cabin, remember?”

  Then he tilted his head — like a kid trying to negotiate.

  “I could say you’ve been cold the past few nights… thought maybe you wouldn’t hate the idea of a little cuddling.”

  I rolled my eyes, huffing in fake annoyance. But a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips before I could stop it.

  I was going soft.

  Against my better judgment.

  Against every instinct I’d spent years sharpening.

  Before I could think better of it, my mouth moved on its own.

  “I know you’ve been eyeing my bed. So fine — just this once, I’ll let you sleep on the carpet with me.”

  He arched a brow, amused. “So you were cold after all. I’ll gladly accept the offer.”

  I huffed again, trying to maintain my tough exterior, “I think I am just in a good mood. Don’t push you luck. Ok? or I’ll kick you back to your corner.”

  His enthusiasm was contagious — and I hated how much I didn’t hate it.

  I shifted, making space for him on the makeshift bed. And just to make sure he behaved, I added,

  “You can sleep beside me. But hands off. And don’t stick to me.”

  The second I said it, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but a soft gasp escaped as his warmth pressed against mine. It was both comforting… and dangerous.

  I had wanted him to sleep beside me — but in his typical fashion, he did whatever he wanted. Boldly. Without hesitation. He clung to me, his grip firm but effortless, holding me from behind.

  "What happened to our hands-off agreement? You’re so clingy, you know that?"

  I tried to sound annoyed, but there was a hint of affection in my voice I couldn’t hide.

  Without thinking, I snuggled in just a little closer — stealing his warmth while pretending I was still annoyed.

  "Can you please let go of me? I want to sleep."

  A beat of silence.

  His grip didn’t loosen — but his voice rumbled softly against me.

  "Do you know my name?"

  I frowned slightly, raising an eyebrow.

  “Of course I do. Wasn’t it Mr. Asshole with Superpowers?”

  I had asked once, back when we first met. He’d dodged the question, and I never pushed again.

  “Jerk,” “idiot,” “asshole” — they’d all worked just fine.

  He grinned. "Are you interested to know?"

  I glanced up at him, curiosity flickering in my eyes.

  “Of course I’m interested,” I snapped.

  Or at least, tried to. It came out more like annoyed curiosity than actual rage.

  I sat up slightly, waving a hand in the air.

  “You could’ve told me your name literally any time. We’ve been sleeping in the same cabin, breathing the same air, sharing food and blankets — and don’t even get me started on the kiss you coerced me into. And all this time? Not even a hello, my name is... Prick?”

  He chuckled. "Ok ok… I’ll tell you… in exchange for another kiss."

  I stared at him, deadpan. "You’re seriously holding your name hostage for lip access? I tilted my head. “That’s… impressively desperate. Congratulations."

  I wanted the jab to sting, to make him back off — but instead, that just made him smile wider.

  " Call it desperate. I call it knowing what I want — and not being shy about it.”

  My heart skipped. Again. Another line that threw me off guard. It was as if he liked me pushing back. Like it gave him something to fight for.

  I didn’t hate the idea — not even a little.

  And I hated myself for being okay with that.

  But he didn’t need to know. I paused, pretending to think.

  "…Fine. One more kiss. But then you better give me your damn name."

  I shifted, crawling higher to reach his lips, my body pressing into his. My heartbeat quickened. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable.

  my chest rising and falling faster.

  “My name is….” he started, but before the rest could escape, the words melted away—As his lips crashed onto mine.

  A gasp slipped from me, swallowed instantly. And before I could stop myself, I kissed him back.

  His hand trailed down my back, leaving fire in its wake.

  I clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer. My body betrayed me, pressing into him with a mix of frustration and something that felt dangerously close to longing.

  The kiss was a battle—demanding, relentless. My mind screamed at me to back off.

  I used all my strength and tore away, gasping for air, my lips tingling, my pulse roaring in my ears.

  I groaned, breath catching in my throat.

  "God… damn it…" still breathless. " Why are you so stubborn… and so damn kissable… and endlessly infuriating..."

  He smirked, his voice softer this time. "Because I like you."

  I froze.

  My heartbeat kicked against my ribs — too fast, too loud.

  I grumbled, flustered and irritated that he’d managed to disarm me again with just another word. Was he serious?

  "Damn it. You just have to throw that ‘I like you’ stuff out there to mess with me, don’t you? Then you just sit back and watch me melt like some smug, cocky bastard…"

  My face was burning, and I hated how thrown off I felt.

  He laughed softly. "I can’t deny I like watching that blush. I could watch it all day."

  My ears were on fire. I didn’t know how to react. He was so open—so free—with the way he spoke.

  So casual about feelings. So comfortable in his skin. I wasn’t used to that. I wasn’t sure what kind of a person he is.

  While I was lost in my thoughts, he added: "I go by the name Gemini."

  I blinked. Seriously? Now he tells me?

  After all that build-up and hostage negotiations for kisses?

  Then, despite myself, I laughed.

  "Seriously? That’s how you finally tell me?"

  Hearing his name—Gemini—made him feel more real, less mysterious.

  I repeated it under my breath. I lay beside him, staring at the ceiling, my mind still trying to catch up. His name rolled off my tongue before I even realized I had said it.

  "Gemini…"

  It felt strange... yet familiar. Like a name I’d known for a long time. Even though we’d only known each other for a day.

  He turned his head slightly, watching me with that ever-present smirk.

  "I guess that’s a pretty cool name," I said. "It suits you somehow. Fits your whole cocky, arrogant persona. Also, your habit of constantly changing moods and conversation topics."

  His smirk widened.

  "Seems like you know a thing or two about the zodiac signs."

  I nodded.

  "Yeah, just a bit. But I know Gemini — all that unapologetic confidence, unpredictability, charm, and chaos wrapped in a single smug package." I poked his nose. "Total paradox. Just like they say."

  Gemini chuckled. "A charming paradox, huh? Guess you know a lot."

  "Don’t get cocky." Too late. He already was.

  I hesitated for a second, debating whether to say it. But the words slipped out on their own.

  "I had a Gemini brother."

  The moment it left my lips, my expression shifted. A flicker of sadness passed through me, memories flashing behind my eyes. I didn’t need to say more.

  Gemini’s tone changed immediately. "Sorry about that."

  I swallowed, shaking my head lightly. "It’s all good. It’s in the past."

  I took a deep breath, pushing the emotion aside. But of course, his voice shifted the mood like always.

  “What sign are you yourself?”

  I looked him in the eye, head high like I was revealing a badge of honor. "I’m an Aries."

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  I gave a dramatic pause, then smirked. "Supposedly, that means I’m blunt, independent, fearless, energetic, adventurous, loyal, protective, impulsive… and honest."

  I nudged him, a playful glint in my eye.

  “Basically, the opposite of you. And yet, here we are—sharing a carpet and bonding over star signs,” I added, poking him in the chest, “while the rest of the world’s out there rotting.”

  Gemini laughed. "Damn, an Aries. No wonder you are always grumpy, and stubborn. You know our signs don’t get along, right?"

  I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

  "Wow, thanks for the compliment."

  "I’m just stating facts," he said, grinning.

  I let out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it’s true. Aries and Gemini? Supposedly a match made in hell. You’re chaos incarnate, and I’m fearless and impulsive… but somehow I’m still the stable one."

  “You? Stable? Please.” he laughed. "But I can’t deny — we’ve got some serious spark going on.”

  “Shut up, you Jackass, I am way more stable than you,” I tried to sound angry—but the smirk gave me away. “Yeah, I’ll give you that. There’s something here… probably highly flammable like fire and gasoline. and definitely a bad idea.”

  Gemini's lips curled mischievously, and his smirk grew wicked.

  "I think in this scenario, you’re the gasoline. That’s why you smell so bad."

  I burst out laughing, caught off guard by his ridiculous comment. I gave him a mock-offended glare, my eyes sparkling with amusement.

  "Oh wow, thanks. You’re a real comedian" I sniffed my arm dramatically. “Smell fresh and nice, you Jackass”

  He laughed and said with a sly grin "Hahaha, Yes, Thanks to my cleaning supplies."

  I punched him lightly in the head. "I’ve always been clean, even without your damn supplies."

  He shot me a devilish sideways glance. "If you claim to be clean, I should confirm that with my own eyes before I believe it."

  I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at his shamelessness.

  "You’re just fishing for excuses to see me naked, aren’t you? Nice try, buddy. If you want to see me naked, you’re gonna have to work way harder than that."

  He rubbed his chin, pretending to think. "A smart Aries, huh? That’s rare."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so now I’m smart? Two minutes ago, I was ‘stinky.’ Make up your damn mind."

  "You’re a smart, stinky, beautiful, annoying, and grumpy girl.” His grin widened. “And I’ll generously take back the ‘stinky’… if you strip."

  I laughed, shaking my head at his relentless confidence.

  "You’re actually insane. You think I’ll strip just so you stop calling me stinky?"

  "I was hoping for it." His eyes lit up like a kid asking for a lollipop.

  I sighed, but a small smile tugged at my lips. "You think you’re so charming, don’t you? With your cocky attitude and that stupid grin."

  I paused, pretending to be annoyed… then gave in, just a little.

  "Fine. I’ll strip. But only if you never, ever call me stinky again. Deal?"

  Gemini’s eyes twinkled. "I promise I won’t call you stinky… until next week."

  I smirked, playing along. "Next week, huh? Alright then. I’ve got two more conditions."

  He let out a dramatic sigh. "What else? Your demands keep growing."

  I sat up slightly, my tone playful but firm.

  "First, I want to know more about you. Where you’re from, where you were going, how you got your powers… anything that helps me know you better."

  A pause.

  "And second… you strip first. So I can find the courage to do it too."

  He let out a soft chuckle. "I’ll definitely tell you about myself. But if I start now, it’ll take forever to finish." He leaned in, smirk returning. "Let’s save that for a night when we’re not… this busy."

  Then he sat up straight, reaching for his collar. "As for your other shameless demand..." He grinned. "Your wish is my command."

  He slipped off his jacket, then slowly loosened a few buttons on his shirt. But then he stopped, his smirk widening.

  "If you have time to stare at me, I guess you can help me take off my clothes, right?"

  I huffed, pretending to be exasperated, but my eyes danced with a mix of desire and playfulness.

  The idea of undressing him was… tempting.

  I leaned in closer, my hands hovering over his shirt. My fingers twitched slightly, lingering over the buttons. A voice in my head shout “What the hell am I doing?”

  But then he smirked—that knowing, cocky smirk that made my stomach flip in the worst (or best) way.

  Screw it.

  I grabbed the first button and began to undo them—one by one.

  I let out a soft sarcastic laugh.

  "Oh, so you’re making me do all the work, huh? You’re gonna make me take your clothes off for you? You’re just too damn lazy, aren’t you?"

  "Call it energy conservation— but I get very selective bursts of motivation." He grinned. "Usually for all the wrong reasons."

  I rolled my eyes but kept unbuttoning his shirt, my hands moving slowly and deliberately. Every touch sent a small jolt down my spine, an unfamiliar but intoxicating sensation.

  Then, without warning, his lips brushed against my neck.

  A sharp breath hitched in my throat as he trailed kisses upward, stopping just at my ear. A shiver ran through me, like I had been plunged into icy water. My heart slammed against my ribs.

  I pushed him away—not too forcefully, but enough to remind him that he wouldn’t always get what he wanted so easily.

  "You never hold anything back, do you?" I muttered, catching my breath. "You just say whatever’s on your mind and do whatever you like. It’s both infuriating and… admirable, you know that?"

  He smirked, tilting his head. "I only let out the good things."

  This time, it didn’t feel like his usual playful banter. There was something real underneath.

  Still, I focused on unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers occasionally brushing against his skin. His body was warm, firm, his touch cool in contrast to my own heated flesh.

  A dangerous contrast.

  I hesitated for just a moment before speaking. "And what about the bad things?"

  His grin faded just a little, a shadow passing through his expression.

  "I doubt you’d look at me the same if you knew."

  I blinked, my fingers momentarily stilling on the last button of his shirt. Was he being serious? Or was this just another one of his games?

  Deciding not to dwell on it. Finally, I finished unbuttoning his shirt and pushed it aside, revealing his chest.

  My fingers moved instinctively, tracing the warmth of his skin — until they stopped on something unexpected.

  A scar.

  My brows furrowed as I leaned in slightly. In the dim firelight, the wound stood out—deep, jagged, unmistakable. I traced its rough edges with my fingertips, my curiosity flaring. This wasn’t just a wound. It was a story, carved into his skin.

  I looked up at him, my expression unreadable. "How did this happened?"

  He exhaled slowly. For the first time, the usual lightness in his voice dimmed, just a fraction.

  “Well…” a pause "It was part of a ritual I had to go through." A longer pause this time, then: "When I died."

  My fingers froze over his skin, heart pounding in my chest. I stared at him, waiting for a smirk, for some hint that he was joking.

  But there was none.

  He what? Died? The word felt too big, too impossible as it formed in my mind. That’s not something you just say casually. And yet... deep down, I knew he wasn’t joking.

  He was sitting here—alive, breathing, watching me—And yet… I knew he meant it.

  I swallowed hard. "You... died?" My voice barely made it past my lips. "But how? Why? How are you here now?"

  Instead of answering, he reached for me.

  His left arm wrapped around my waist, his right hand cupped my cheek gently. Instinctively, I tilted my head, leaning into his touch without realizing it.

  "Lay down beside me," he murmured. "Let me help you with your clothes now. I’ll tell you that story later."

  I hesitated. Part of me wanted answers, but another part of me—a much bigger part—felt something stronger than curiosity.

  Trust.

  It was strange, unexpected. But it was there.

  I found myself nodding.

  For a man who was always laughing, always teasing, it was easy to forget that he carried his own scars—his own wounds, his own pain. But I saw it now, hidden beneath his smirks and confidence.

  Slowly, I settled beside him. My pulse quickened as his fingers reached for the first button, undoing them one by one with careful precision. My shirt slid off my shoulder, the fabric grazing my skin like a whisper.

  He leaned in, his voice barely above a breath.

  "You are so gorgeous."

  I huffed, trying to push away the warmth creeping into my face.

  "Beauty doesn’t mean much in this world — unless you’re trying to attract trouble. I don’t get the luxury of letting my guard down. Not even for a second."

  His lips curled into a small smile. "Then it’s a good thing you’re not just a pretty face. You stab first before they know it.”

  A pause. "But as long as I’m with you… you won’t fight alone and I will protect you."

  I couldn’t help but feel a wave of emotion at his words. No one had promised to protect me like this—not since my parents and brother were gone. It was both unnerving and strangely comforting.

  The world wasn’t kind enough to offer protection—it only took and took until there was nothing left.

  I looked at him, searching for any trace of deception.

  "You say that with so much confidence," I murmured. "But how can I trust you to keep that promise? Protection isn’t always that simple, you know."

  He held my gaze. "As long as you’re with me, nothing’s going to happen to you. At least… not in this cursed world." He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my eye. "You can rely on me. I promise."

  Something about the way he said it sent a small shiver down my spine— a stark contrast to the trace of heat still lingering on my eye.

  But what did he mean by, “At least not in this cursed world”? The words lingered, unsettling… yet strangely intriguing.

  "You’re confident, I’ll give you that." I let out a dry chuckle. "But you really think you’re strong enough to protect me from everything? In a world like this? No one can promise anything. It’s cruel and unforgiving. You can’t just say something like that so easily."

  He smiled—not in mockery, but in a way that felt almost… reassuring.

  "But I can," he said simply. His tone was too steady, too certain—like he knew something I didn’t. "I never promise something I can’t do."

  I stared at him, trying to read the sincerity in his eyes. Was he serious? Was I supposed to believe that?

  I’d seen promises break.

  Over and over.

  I’d seen people abandon each other the second things got hard.

  I’d learned — the hard way — that promises were just words. Fragile. Useless.

  There was no point in arguing with him. If he really believed he wouldn’t betray me… then fine. Let him prove it.

  "Fine." I gave him a sidelong glance.

  “I won’t trust you. Not yet. But you better believe I’ll be holding you to that promise — every single chance I get.”

  Without a word, his lips found my neck, and suddenly, I forgot what I was about to say.

  His mouth was warm against my skin, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along my jawline, down to my shoulder. My heart pounded in response, and I let out a quiet gasp, my breath coming in shallow pants.

  His hand cradled my cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, making me feel wanted, desired… safe.

  I ran my fingers through his hair, just enough to ground myself—but a shiver still slipped through.

  "You… really know how to mess with a girl," I murmured, my voice unsteady.

  "I might have learned some tricks in the underworld." His voice was playful, teasing.

  I chuckled, rolling my eyes, but my body betrayed me—my hips subtly shifting against him, drawn to his warmth. I reached up, grabbing a handful of his hair, tugging just enough to get his attention.

  "Oh, the underworld taught you how to turn a girl on?" I smirked. "Should’ve known something so damn sinful would come from there."

  He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable.

  "It’s not sinful," he said gently. "It’s beautiful. And with you… it’s pure."

  Something about the way he said it—so sincere, so certain—sent a warmth through my chest.

  I smiled, then whispered—just loud enough for myself to hear: "Yeah… it is beautiful. You somehow make everything beautiful."

  His fingers slipped beneath my shirt, gripping the fabric at the hem. Slowly, he lifted it, sliding it up and over my head.

  Bare skin met cool air.

  He paused, his gaze sweeping over me, drinking me in like a man starved.

  Power. That’s what I felt in that moment. For once, I had control—I could see it in the way his pupils dilated, in the way his breath hitched as he looked at me.

  A wicked smirk curled on my lips.

  "Well?" I tilted my head. "You gonna call me stinky again, or did I finally shut you up?"

  He grinned, tilting his head playfully. "Did I ever call you stinky? Hmm… I think you should punish me for lying."

  I laughed, but the sound was cut short as his hand moved lower, trailing over my stomach, down to the waistband of my pants.

  My body tensed as instinct took over first—but then melted away into his touch.

  But then—

  A flicker of something cold. A whisper at the back of my mind.

  Happy moments never lasted. Happiness was always temporary. I knew that. I had lived that. But for just this once, I wanted to believe otherwise.

  I wanted to enjoy this.

  I forced the thought away, tried to stay in the moment. Tried to enjoy this.

  His kisses continued, traveling from my neck to my collarbone, down toward my chest. His fingers toyed with the button of my pants, slow and teasing. His lips found their way lower to my chest, and my heart slammed against my ribs as I felt his hand between my legs.

  And then—suddenly—something shattered.

  My body locked up. My breath caught, sharp and painful.

  The warmth of the cabin was gone. The present was gone.

  I wasn’t here anymore. My mind plunged into darkness. Into the past.

  Images. Faces. Hands.

  Cold. Trapped. Helpless.

  My breath faltered. My hands turned ice cold. My chest tightened, constricting like a vice.

  “No... No… no… no….”

  The world spun around me, memories crashing through the walls I had spent years trying to build.

  I wasn’t here anymore. I was back there. Back in the past. In the small cell.

  I didn’t realize I was shaking until I heard his voice.

  "Elli. Elli. Look at me."

  His voice was distant, pulling me back.

  "Are you alright? Honey, are you okay? Come back, please."

  The images began to fade, like smoke curling away from a fire. Slowly, the dimly lit cabin came back into focus—the scent of damp wood and smoke filling my senses.

  I blinked, disoriented. My breathing was still ragged, uneven.

  Gemini sat beside me, shirtless, his eyes filled with concern.

  I swallowed hard. "What… happened?"

  His shoulders visibly relaxed, as if he had been holding his breath. "Oh, thank God… you’re fine. I’m sorry if I pushed too far."

  I stared at him, trying to piece together the last few moments.

  His expression darkened slightly. "I think you had an anxiety attack… or something similar. You crawled to the corner, shaking and crying.” He held me—tight. Too tight. "I feel guilty as hell. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that."

  I lifted a trembling hand from his back and touched my face. My skin was damp. I had been crying.

  He released me. I looked back at him. He seemed… genuinely worried. I hadn’t seen anyone look at me like that since — Since Edd.

  Something inside me cracked at the realization.

  I reached out, my fingertips brushing his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my touch.

  "I’m fine," I whispered. "Don’t worry. I think… I just wasn’t mentally prepared for this. Sorry if I ruined our moment."

  He let out a breath, then kissed my hand gently.

  Then, without hesitation, he reached for one of the blankets and wrapped it around me.

  "You didn’t ruin anything," he murmured. "All I want is to hold you. Just sleep beside me. That’s enough."

  Something tightened in my chest—an ache, unfamiliar and yet painfully recognizable.

  Safety.

  I didn’t fight it. I let myself lean into him, resting my head against his chest.

  He lifted me effortlessly, moving me back to the makeshift bed. He settled beside me, his arms encircling me in a way that felt secure, unshakable.

  A warm tingling sensation spread across my neck and the back of my head, seeping into me like a comforting presence. It could have been from his body heat, but whatever it was, it made my muscles relax, the lingering tension melting away.

  A heavy wave of exhaustion washed over me. My eyelids grew heavier, my body sinking deeper into the warmth.

  For the first time in years, I felt… safe.

  My fingers found his hand, gripping it as my eyelids grew heavy.

  I barely caught his last words, murmured against my hair—

  "Thanks for being here."

  And before I could respond, sleep claimed me.