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Winter's lips moved against Zara's with a softness that contradicted the tension coiled in his body. His fingers skimmed the curve of her jaw, tracing a path down to her throat, feeling the pulse beating rapidly beneath his fingertips.

Zara's hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as though he might disappear if she let go. The warmth of his body, the way he fit against her—it felt dangerously right. She sighed into the kiss, her breath mingling with his. 

Neither of them wanted to pull away. But reality didn't wait.

When they finally parted, the room remained still, as if the world itself was holding onto the moment just as they were.

Leo's slow, even breaths filled the space from where he lay curled on the makeshift bed, deep in sleep.

Winter exhaled, his gaze fixed on her, searching. His hand lingered at her waist before he finally pulled back slightly, studying her expression as if bracing for regret.