CHAPTER III: A SKIN BEAST

  Staying in the Housemaster’s abode was a mistake. Eve must now fight his way to survive.

  The Housemaster grabs Eve’s collar and yanks him down the stairs.

  “Stop! Let me go!” Eve screams, his voice breaking.

  He kicks and twists. His feet scrape the steps. The grip digs into the skin of his neck. The Housemaster doesn’t let go. He drags Eve like he’s a ragdoll.

  “Everyone! Get here now!” The Housemaster’s voice pierces through the house.

  Doors creak open. The other kids stumble from their rooms, their faces scared and confused. They gather in the common room, whispering to each other.

  The Housemaster throws Eve to the ground. Eve’s chest rises and falls fast. His whole body shakes.

  “Tonight, I’ll make an example of him. He will be sacrificed to He Who Feeds.” The Housemaster’s voice is cold.

  Gasps fill the room. Some kids step back. Others whisper, their eyes darting to Eve.

  Adam steps forward.

  “Housemaster, Please. Don’t do this. Forgive him,” his voice shakes.

  The Housemaster glares. “Say another word, and you’ll join him.”

  Adam freezes. He doesn’t say anything else.

  The Housemaster grabs Eve again.

  “Come,” he says, his voice filled with venom. “You’ll see what happens when you disobey.”

  Eve stumbles as he’s dragged to the basement. The air becomes more oppressive with every step. The others follow, their eyes wide, their voices hushed.

  There’s a heavy hatch at the bottom of the stairs. The Housemaster pulls it open. The smell hits like a punch. It reeks of death.

  Inside, the room stretches into darkness. Something massive moves in the shadows.

  “This is He Who Feeds,” the Housemaster grins.

  Eve’s knees go weak. His stomach turns. He wants to run, but he can’t.

  The creature steps into the faint light. Its body is huge and twisted. Hanging flesh drips onto the floor. Its veins pulse like they’re alive. Its claws leave deep marks as they scrape the ground.

  The Housemaster looks at the kids. “It is He who gives us food. He makes the crops grow. He provides the meat. But He needs to be fed. The bad children pay the price.”

  Eve backs away, shaking his head. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

  The Housemaster shoves Eve into the room. Eve hits the ground hard. The dirt feels cold and wet under him.

  “NO!” Adam’s voice cracks as he shouts.

  The Housemaster turns to Adam. His smile is cruel. Without a word, he pushes Adam into the room too. Adam falls next to Eve, his face pale.

  The hatch slams shut. Darkness swallows them.

  The only sound is the creature’s slow, labored breathing. It doesn’t move, but Eve can feel it watching them. The ground under him feels strange. It throbs, almost like a heartbeat.

  The room is silent. Eve doesn’t move. He waits. The creature waits too.

  The Creature’s massive form stirs with a sick wet sound. The ground trembles slightly as it moves, dragging its enormous bulk toward Eve and Adam. Its body is a twisted mess of flesh, swollen and sagging in places. The skin is pale, stretched too thin in some areas and too thick in others. It ripples as it moves, a grotesque dance of sinew and muscle.

  The Creature’s claws scrape across the floor. The noise is like metal on stone. A screech that cuts through the air. Each step is slow and deliberate. But the weight behind it is unbearable. The creature’s massive limbs drag behind, leaving a slick trail of blood and oozing pus in its wake.

  Eve’s eyes follow it, heart pounding. He can barely breathe. The smell is overwhelming. It reeks of rot, decay, and something worse———something foul that clings like deathly gas.

  The creature’s head swivels. Its eyes are hollow pits of darkness. They’re blacker than midnight and emptier than voids. The thing has no pupils, no whites, just an endless, endless abyss. The creature’s mouth is split into a wide and jagged grin with rows of broken teeth gleaming in the red lamp that hangs on the ceiling. Its lips twitch, wet and slick as if it is smiling. But not in a way any human could understand.

  Its body groans as it hauls itself. The sound comes from deep within its chest. The flesh quivers, pulsing like it’s alive in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Tendrils of flesh writhe across the creature’s back, stretching and retracting like worms crawling through its skin.

  Eve wants to look away, but his body freezes. His legs won’t move. Adam stands next to him, his face pale, eyes wide with fear, but he too is rooted to the spot. They are both trapped, caught in the gaze of the thing that moves toward them, slow and unstoppable.

  With every inch it crawls forward, the room grows colder. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the air thick with the suffocating stench of the creature’s body.

  It inches closer. Its claws drag along the earth and its breath is heavy and wet. The creature’s lips part, the skin around its mouth splitting wider as it draws in a slow, rattling breath. It inhales as if savoring the moment… as if it can smell the fear in their bodies.

  The sound of its movement is like thunder, the vibration in the room shaking the walls. The thing is so close now that Eve can almost feel its presence pressing on his chest. It stops. Its eyes lock onto them. The silence stretches.

  With a low rumble, the Creature makes its first move. It lunges.

  Eve ducks fast. The Creature’s claws slam into the wall. The stone shatters loud like breaking glass. Dust and debris fly everywhere. Eve’s heart races, adrenaline surging through his veins.

  “Move!” Eve shouts at Adam, but it’s too late.

  A slimy tendril snaps out and wraps around Adam’s leg. Adam screams and tries to pull free, but it drags him closer to the Creature. The thing grins, its teeth sharp and glinting in the dim light. The thing’s teeth glint as it grins. Its jaw unhinges like it’s about to swallow him whole.

  “Adam!” Eve yells.

  His voice cracks as he scrambles to his feet. He slips on the slick ground but forces himself forward. His hands scrape against rough stone as he grabs for Adam’s arm.

  Adam’s face is pale. His eyes are wide in panic.

  “Eve, help!” he gasps, struggling against the slimy grip. The tendril coils tighter.

  Eve reaches out. His fingers brush Adam’s wrist. He pulls but can’t fight the Creature’s strength. More tendrils whip around, smashing into the walls and floor. The noise is wet and heavy. Adam jerks with every pull. His breaths come fast and shallow.

  “Hold on!” Eve shouts.

  He spots a sharp piece of broken stone and grabs it. His arms tremble as he swings the rock at the slimy tendril. It hits hard. The tendril jerks back, leaving a gap.

  Adam pulls free and crashes to the ground, gasping for air.

  Eve grabs Adam and yanks him up.

  The Creature roars. Its claws scrape the floor as it rushes toward them. Eve and Adam run. Their legs strain with every step. The Creature’s screeches echo behind them. Its tendrils slam into walls, breaking stone and throwing chunks everywhere.

  Eve’s chest tightens. He looks around for an escape. His breath catches in his throat as he looks around, frantic. The room is closing in. The Creature is moving toward them. Its massive body throbs with sickening slithers. Its eyes are locked onto them, wild and hungry.

  “We’re trapped,” Eve whispers when he hits a wall, his voice breaking.

  His eyes flick to the hatch above. The only way out. It’s too high. Too far.

  The Creature lunges. Its claws are out. Its jaws are open wide.

  It slams into the ground hard. Its momentum is yanked back by a thick chain around its neck. The chain tightens, holding it down.

  Eve stumbles back, shaking. His breath comes in sharp bursts. Tears streak his face without him noticing. Adam wraps his arms around him and holds him tight.

  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Adam whispers, his voice low and soft. “We’re not dead yet. We’ll get out of here, alright?”

  Eve’s body shakes as he clings to Adam. His sobs wrack through him, deep and painful. He can’t stop. He tries to breathe but the fear won’t leave. The creature is still there, still so close. Still so dangerous.

  “I can’t... I can’t do this,” Eve cries into Adam’s chest, his voice muffled by the fabric of Adam’s shirt.

  Adam holds him tighter, his hand running through Eve’s hair, trying to soothe him.

  “You’re not alone, okay? We’ll get out of this. Just breathe. Focus on me. You’re not alone,” Adam murmurs, his breath warm on Eve’s ear.

  Eve lets out a shaky breath, his tears soaking Adam’s shirt. His thoughts are a blur. His heart feels like it’s going to burst from the panic. But Adam doesn’t let go. To Eve, Adam’s arms feel like the only safe place left in the world.

  And for a moment, Eve lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe, they’ll make it out.

  The Creature lunges again, its tendrils snapping through the air like whips. Each time, it crashes against the floor, cracking it. The chain around its neck tightens, but it’s starting to loosen, its massive body jerking and pulling harder.

  Finally, the chain snaps.

  Eve’s heart pounds in his chest as the Creature moves faster now, dragging the chain behind it. He looks at Adam. They have to move. They can’t stay in one place.

  "Go!" Adam yells.

  Eve doesn’t need to be told twice. He sprints in the opposite direction, his legs burning. The Creature screeches, its eyes locking onto Adam. It’s too quick. Too strong.

  The Creature beelines toward Adam. Eve’s eyes widen, and without thinking, he turns around. He grabs the chain, yanking with every ounce of strength he has. The metal clinks and rattles as it tightens around his hands, but he doesn’t stop pulling.

  The Creature stumbles, its momentum thrown off by the sudden tug. It screeches, its claws scraping against the stone floor, its body twisting and jerking.

  Eve grits his teeth, his hands slipping from the chain as it drags across the ground. He pulls harder, his arms burning with the effort. The Creature stumbles again, its legs buckling for a split second.

  “Come on!” Eve mutters under his breath, his heart racing.

  The Creature lets out a howl, turning its attention back to Eve, but it's too slow now. It’s struggling to regain balance. Adam takes his chance, darting out of the way, just as the Creature staggers.

  The Creature charges at Eve. Its roar shakes the walls. Its massive body is like a freight train. Eve feels his heart stop. His breath catches in his throat. He can’t hold onto the chain any longer. It’s too much.

  Without thinking, he lets go.

  “Eve!” Adam yells.

  But it’s too late.

  Adam doesn’t wait. He runs at the Creature. He jumps onto its back. His arms wrap tight around the slimy frame. His hands grab one of the Creature’s horns. He pulls hard.

  The horn snaps.

  Thick black blood sprays from the wound. It gushes like a fountain, splattering everywhere. The floor turns slippery. Adam holds on.

  The Creature thrashes, trying to shake him off. Adam doesn’t let go. He lifts the broken horn and slams it into the Creature’s head wound. The sharp edge sinks deep. Blood sprays again.

  “Die! Damn you, die!” Adam cries in desperation.

  His voice cracks with each scream. He pulls the horn out and stabs again. Each strike cuts through flesh. Each hit sends more blood pouring out.

  The Creature howls in agony, its body twisting violently. Its tendrils lash out, knocking over stone columns and sending dust flying. Adam keeps stabbing, piercing through the Creature’s skin, each blow punctuated by the vile squelch of its flesh being torn open.

  The horn digs in.

  Again.

  And again.

  Adam’s hands drip with blood. His face is a mask of black and red. The Creature screams louder. Its body jerks. The sound of tearing flesh fills the room.

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  Black blood covers the floor, thick and sticky. The walls drip with it. The air smells like rot. The Creature’s eyes are wide, its mouth opening in one final scream. Adam stabs again. The horn sinks deeper.

  The Creature shudders one last time.

  It slumps.

  Its body crashes to the ground.

  Silence fills the room. The Creature doesn’t move. Its chest rises once. Then it stops. Its blood pools around them, and the room goes deathly still.

  Adam stands there, panting, blood splattered across his face, his hands shaking. He drops the claw, and the room is filled with blood.

  Eve’s legs give out, and he crumples to the ground. His body is trembling, his mind racing. It’s over.

  Adam rushes to Eve. His steps pound against the stone floor. His chest rises and falls like he just ran a mile. Blood drips from his clothes. His hands are shaking. He doesn’t care. He sees Eve lying there, small and fragile. Eve’s wide eyes look up at him, tears running down his face like a scared little kid lost in the dark.

  Adam drops to his knees. He pulls Eve into his arms. His muscles ache from the fight, but he holds on. Eve’s head rests against his chest. His breathing is quick and shallow.

  “Eve…” Adam whispers.

  His voice cracks. He’s tired. Relieved. He doesn’t know what else to say.

  Eve lifts a trembling hand. His fingers brush Adam’s jaw. His touch is like a feather. It feels like he’s afraid Adam will disappear if he lets go. Eve’s eyes lock onto Adam’s. There’s something there. Something Adam doesn’t understand.

  Adam’s face is young, his features sharp yet soft, the kind of face that could belong to a warrior or a prince. His eyes, bright and full of fire, are full of raw emotion now———concern, fear, longing. His lips, slightly chapped from the battle, tremble as he holds Eve.

  “Adam…” Eve’s voice is soft and shaky… feminine.

  Eve cups Adam’s face with both hands. His fingers tremble, but he pulls Adam closer. His breath is uneven. Eve doesn’t think. He acts.

  Eve kisses Adam.

  It’s quick. It’s messy. It’s desperate. It’s full of everything Eve can’t say. Fear. Panic. Something deeper. Something he doesn’t want to admit.

  Adam freezes. His whole body tenses. For a second, he doesn’t move. His hands hover awkwardly on Eve’s chest, unsure if he should push Eve away or hold him tighter. His heart pounds in his ears. His head spins.

  Eve pulls back. His face is red. He can’t look at Adam. His hands drop to his sides.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t have—” Eve stutters.

  “Don’t… do it again,” Adam says.

  His voice shakes. His face burns. He stares at the ground. He can’t look at Eve. He isn’t angry. He’s just awkward. So awkward it hurts.

  Eve looks away, the weight of what just happened crashing down on him. He doesn’t understand why he did it. Why he couldn’t stop. The fear and adrenaline mixed with something else. Something he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

  Eve turns his face away. His whole body curls up like he wants to hide what he’s done.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

  His voice is small. It’s thick with regret.

  Adam stays quiet. His arms stay around Eve. He doesn’t know what to say. The silence feels heavy. It feels warm too.

  Neither of them moves. The moment is weird. Weird in a way that feels too big to deal with right now. They stay close. Eve leans into Adam’s chest. Adam’s arms hold him steady.

  The chaos is gone for now. Just for a moment.

  Eve stands. His legs shake, but he forces himself forward. He stares at the Creature's massive body sprawled on the floor. Blood pools around it. Its thick skin hangs loose. Its limbs twist in angles that look wrong and natural.

  Eve’s eyes surveil the room. Something glints high above. He points up.

  “Look,” he says. His voice wavers, but there’s a spark of hope. “A ladder.”

  Adam follows his gaze. At first, he squints. Then he sees it. A folded ladder hides in the shadows on the ceiling.

  Adam grabs the chain off the floor. He swings it hard. His muscles flex as the chain loops over the ladder’s edge. It hooks on tight. Adam pulls. The ladder groans, each step unfolding with a loud clank.

  Eve lets out a breath. His shoulders relax a little.

  “That’s our way out,” he says.

  His voice sounds stronger now.

  Adam steps onto the first rung. His grip tightens as he climbs. The metal feels rough under his hands. Eve follows close behind. His fingers sting from the cold, but he doesn’t stop.

  The ladder creaks with each step. It feels like it might snap, but it holds. They don’t glance back at the Creature. They only move up. Step after step.

  The air grows cooler. Eve’s chest heaves as they near the top. His heart races, but this time it feels lighter.

  Adam reaches for the hatch. His fingers dig into the edge. With a grunt, he pushes it open. Light bursts through, blinding for a second.

  He climbs out first. Then he grabs Eve’s wrist and pulls him up. They step onto solid ground. Warm light washes over them. The basement fades behind them. The terror stays below.

  Eve moves through the basement. The cold floor chills his bare feet. He stops at a shelf lined with tools. His hands hover, shaking. Then he grabs a sickle. The blade is rusty but sharp. He grabs a hammer too. It feels heavy in his grip. His face stays blank. His eyes look empty.

  Adam watches from the stairs.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  His voice is low. He sounds unsure.

  Eve doesn’t answer. He walks past Adam. The tools stay clutched tight in his hands. Adam steps back. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but no sound comes out. Eve climbs the stairs. Each step is steady and calm.

  Light streams through cracks in the walls.

  “Pick that up. Get it clean. I won’t live in a pigsty!” The Housemaster’s voice booms upstairs.

  A loud crash comes from the Housemaster’s room. Glass shatters. The sound makes him freeze. His yelling stops. His eyes narrow.

  He stomps up the stairs. His boots thud hard against the wood. He mutters as he climbs.

  “What now?” mutters the Housemaster.

  He reaches Eve’s room. He shoves the door open. His eyes sweep the space. The bed is empty. The room looks still.

  Behind him, the wardrobe creaks. Eve steps out. His face is cold. Blood smears his skin. He holds the sickle tight. The Housemaster doesn’t see him.

  Eve swings the sickle. The blade slices into the Housemaster’s head. Blood sprays. A wet sound fills the room. The Housemaster stumbles. His hand reaches for his skull. He turns, his eyes wide with shock.

  Eve doesn’t stop. He swings the hammer next. It crashes into the Housemaster’s face. The noise is brutal. Flesh and bone crunch. The Housemaster drops to his knees. Blood pours down his face.

  Eve doesn’t stop. He swings the hammer down, smashing it into the Housemaster’s face. The sound is brutal. Flesh and bone crunch under the force. The Housemaster collapses to his knees, blood pouring from his head. Eve brings the hammer down again and again, each blow harder than the last.

  Eve stands over him. His chest heaves. His hands drip with blood. The sickle and hammer hang at his sides. His face stays blank. His eyes don’t move. He stares ahead like nothing happened.

  “He’s just an insect,” Eve whispers. His voice shakes. The words spill out like a chant. “Only an insect. Nothing more.”

  The kids work in silence, dragging brooms and tossing scraps, their eyes heavy with exhaustion. Then they see him. Eve steps out from the doorway, his figure slouched but steady. His clothes are smeared with crimson, his hands limp at his sides. The hammer and sickle dangle loosely, dripping blood into the dirt.

  One by one, the children stop. Their tools drop. They gather in a loose circle, their wide eyes fixed on Eve. Whispers ripple through the crowd, soft like the rustling of leaves.

  Eve stops in the middle of the field. He drops the hammer first, its dull thud making a few kids flinch. The sickle follows, the curved blade sinking into the soil like a discarded relic.

  “Where are you going?” a small voice calls out. A girl with a tear-streaked face steps forward, clutching the hem of her dress.

  Eve looks at her, his eyes hollow. His voice cracks as he speaks. “You’re free. The Housemaster is dead.”

  A stunned silence falls over them. The words hang in the air, too heavy to be real. A few gasp. One boy looks at Eve’s hands and stumbles back.

  Then Adam appears. He runs to Eve, his feet kicking up dust, and grabs his arm.

  “You can’t just leave,” Adam says, his voice breaking. “Not now. We need you. I need you.”

  Eve pulls his arm free, his movements stiff. He shakes his head.

  “I can’t stay here,” he says. His voice trembles, barely above a whisper. “This place… it’s broken me.”

  Adam steps closer, his hands trembling. He wraps his arms around Eve, pulling him into a tight hug. Eve stiffens at first, but then his shoulders collapse.

  Eve buries his face in Adam’s shoulder, his fingers clutching at Adam’s shirt with all his remaining strength. The tears come fast, choking sobs that shake Eve’s entire body. Adam doesn’t say anything. He just holds him, his hand gently rubbing Eve’s back as the others watch, their faces a mix of fear and hope.

  The hammer and sickle lie in the dirt, forgotten, as the morning sun rises higher, spilling light over the manor.

  Eve steps into a lake near the garden. The water ripples around his legs as he wades deeper. The organic pool stretches wide under the early morning sun, its surface shimmering like glass. His movements are slow, almost hesitant, as he wades in deeper. The blood clings to his pale skin, streaks of red against the delicate curve of his arms, and the soft lines of his neck.

  He cups the water in his hands and lets it spill over his shoulders. The crimson trails swirl and vanish into the lake. His fingers glide across his skin, scrubbing away the dried patches of violence. The light catches on his collarbones, accentuating the slender frame beneath the gentle rise of his chest.

  His hair, dark and damp, clings to his face in soft strands. He brushes it back, exposing his soft jawline and the subtle fullness of his lips. His lashes, long and dark, flutter as drops of water roll down his cheeks, pooling at the edge of his chin before falling into the water below.

  Eve leans forward, submerging his arms up to the elbows. The water embraces him, cool and purifying. His skin, smooth and delicate, gleams free from the grime of blood. He looks down at his reflection. His large eyes stare back, still shadowed by what they’ve seen.

  He presses his palms against his face, hiding for a moment. When he pulls them away, he lets out a shaky breath. The lake cradles him in its quiet, soothing rhythm. Even surrounded by peace, the tension in his shoulders doesn’t fade. He dips his head and pours water over himself, washing away the final traces of the Housemaster’s blood.

  The droplets slide down his back, tracing the elegant slope of his spine.

  The morning breeze brushes against his wet skin, raising goosebumps as if the world itself mourns and heals with him.

  Eve steps out of the lake, water dripping from his frame and trailing down the curve of his legs. He shivers as the breeze brushes against his damp skin. The morning sun warms him as he unfolds a clean dress from the bundle he brought. The fabric is soft, faded blue, and simple. He pulls it over his head, the cloth clinging slightly to his still-damp figure before settling into place. He ties the belt around his waist, smoothing it down.

  The kids gather near the edge of the field, their shovels in hand, quiet and unsure. Eve approaches, his hair drying in soft waves against his face. He doesn’t speak, just picks up a spade and starts digging. The soil is heavy and clings to the metal. The kids follow his lead, moving in somber silence. The grave takes shape, and the Housemaster’s body is lowered in. No words are spoken, just the thud of dirt covering the man who once ruled their lives with cruelty.

  Later, they sit together in the common room. The light filters through the dusty windows. A pile of freshly picked fruit rests on the table. Eve bites into a pear, the sweetness sharp against his tongue. No one talks at first, their thoughts weighing down the air.

  Adam breaks the silence.

  “That thing in the basement… it could feed us for years.” His voice is low, careful. “If we cut it up, salt it, preserve it right, we won’t need to worry about food for a long time.”

  One of the younger kids, a girl with freckles and big, curious eyes, looks at Eve.

  “Are you really gonna leave?” Her voice is small but steady.

  Eve pauses, the pear still in his hand. His eyes, shadowed with something deep and unspoken, meet hers.

  “I’ll think about it,” he says. His voice is soft, almost distant.

  The room falls quiet again. The children eat in silence, their movements slow, as if unsure what to do with themselves now. Eve stares out the window, his gaze unfocused, his mind far from the room.

  Eve lies on his bed. His eyes stay fixed on the ceiling. His face shows nothing. His hands rest lightly on his stomach. The door creaks open. Eve turns his head toward the sound. Adam steps inside. He looks unsure.

  “Eve?” Adam’s voice comes out quiet. He sounds like he’s holding back. “You called for me.”

  “Yeah,” Eve says. His voice stays soft but firm. “I have a request.”

  Adam moves closer. He crosses his arms. “What is it?”

  Eve pushes himself up a little. One hand settles on the bed.

  “Stay with me. Even just for tonight.” He gestures at the empty space beside him.

  Adam tilts his head. His eyebrow rises. “You’re not gonna try to kiss me again. Are you?”

  “No.” Eve’s eyes look away. His voice drops.

  Adam stands there for a second. Then he sits on the edge of the bed. Eve lies back down. His eyes stay half-closed. He pats the space beside him. Adam takes a slow breath. Then he lies down beside Eve.

  Eve turns toward Adam. He wraps his arms around him. His grip feels light. His head rests against Adam’s chest. Eve breathes slowly. The sound fills the room. It’s like he’s trying to lull himself to sleep.

  The room grows quiet. But the quiet feels heavy. Adam breaks it first.

  “Eve?”

  “Yeah?” Eve mumbles.

  His eyes stay closed.

  “Could you open your eyes for a bit?” Adam’s voice softens.

  It feels gentle.

  Eve blinks his eyes open. They meet Adam’s gaze. Adam doesn’t wait.

  He leans in.

  Their lips touch.

  The kiss lingers.

  It’s soft. It searches for something.

  Eve stays still. He doesn’t pull back. His eyes flutter shut. He leans into it. The air between them warms. The outside world fades. It’s just Adam. It’s just Eve.

  Adam leans closer. His breath brushes Eve’s cheek. A moment of hesitation hovers between them. Then it’s gone. Their lips find each other again. Eve lifts a hand. It shakes a little as it reaches for Adam’s face. His fingers touch Adam’s jaw. The touch feels soft. It feels careful.

  Adam answers with a steady hand. He rests it on Eve’s waist. His grip feels solid. It feels like an anchor. Their movements stay slow. They explore without rushing. Eve tilts his head.

  The kiss deepens.

  His lips part slightly. He draws Adam closer. Their breaths mix. It’s quiet but heavy. The air feels alive with something unspoken.

  Eve’s other hand finds Adam’s shoulder. His fingers clutch the fabric of Adam’s shirt. Adam moves and now he’s on top of Eve.

  The bed creaks softly.

  Eve’s heart races. His body feels tense at first. Then Adam’s hands slide up his chest. They move steadily. They feel calm. Eve’s body loosens.

  They pause. Their foreheads press together. Their breaths come uneven. Eve’s fingers trail along Adam’s jaw. The touch feels light. It feels curious. Adam’s eyes search Eve’s face. They say what his mouth doesn’t.

  Adam brushes a stray lock of hair from Eve’s face. His thumb lingers on his cheek. He leans in again. Their lips meet slower this time. Each movement feels deliberate. Eve’s chest tightens. The feeling doesn’t scare him. It feels warm. It feels deep.

  The world outside slips further away. It’s just them. The quiet moment holds them. Their closeness says everything words never could.

  They kiss the night away.

  The first light of morning spills through the windows. Dust floats in the golden beams. Eve moves quietly around the room. He doesn’t make a sound. There’s a small bag on the table. Inside are folded clothes, old maps, a compass, bottles of oil, matches, and some fruit and bread he took from the kitchen and the common room. Eve packs it all with purpose. His face stays calm. Maybe too calm.

  Adam steps into the room. His hair is tousled from sleep. When he sees Eve, he stops. He just watches for a moment.

  “You’re really leaving,” Adam says. His voice is soft.

  “Yeah,” Eve looks up but keeps packing.

  “Are you sure? After everything, you’re just going to go?” Adam steps closer. His brow furrows.

  Eve finishes tying the bag. He throws it over his shoulder. He faces Adam.

  “I have to. I can’t stay here, Adam. Not after what’s happened. This place…” He stops. He searches for the words. “It’s not home for me anymore.”

  Adam’s shoulders sag. He stares at Eve, his lips tight.

  “I thought maybe…” Adam doesn’t finish.

  Eve steps closer. He closes the space between them. He raises his hand and gently brushes his fingers against Adam’s cheek. The touch is light. It’s unsure. Then Eve leans in and presses a soft kiss to Adam’s cheek.

  “Goodbye, Adam,” Eve whispers. His voice is barely a sound.

  Before Adam can say anything, Eve turns and walks toward the door. His bag bounces with each step. The sun waits for him outside. It paints the sky in pink and gold.

  Adam stands frozen. He watches Eve walk out. His heart feels heavy as he sees Eve’s figure fade into the light. Eve moves steadily away, his shadow stretching long behind him.

  “Eve…” Adam murmurs. His voice cracks, but he doesn’t stop him.

  He watches until Eve is far away, swallowed by the bright sunrise. Only then does Adam realize his hand is pressed to his chest. The ache in his heart feels deep and broken.