The car glides through the evening streets of Wii Country, the quiet purr of its engine barely disturbing the silence inside. The sun is low, bleeding gold and amber across the sky. The city passes in fragments—trees with leaves edged in fire, buildings that gleam like old jewels, streets that stretch toward a horizon painted in shades of rose and copper.
I sit in the backseat, my body relaxed against the leather, my phone dim in my hand. I scroll without really seeing, my thumb moving out of habit rather than purpose.
The journey from Crystal Country has been long—hours folded into hours, time losing its shape somewhere over the ocean.
Beside me, Silas is a quiet weight against my shoulder.
His head rests against the curve of my neck, his breathing slow and even, the kind of deep, peaceful sleep that comes when someone feels completely safe. His hair is soft against my jaw, and every so often, his breath stirs against my skin—warm, steady, alive.
