Chapter 73: Chapter 72. Mending

Chapter 72

Theo and Daphne

Daphne paused in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands over the silky fabric of her red dress. The fitted bodice hugged her frame, flaring out slightly at the hem, the deep crimson shade making her skin glow. She tilted her head, adjusting a loose curl over her shoulder before pressing her lips together, as if testing the perfect shade of lipstick she had chosen. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped out of the bedroom, the soft click of her heels echoing against the hardwood floor.

Theo was lounging in the living room, one hand idly holding his phone as his eyes skimmed the screen. The moment he sensed her presence, he looked up—and whatever he was reading ceased to exist. His gaze swept over her, slow and deliberate, before his lips curved into a charming, knowing smile.

"You look..." He exhaled, as if words failed him for a moment. Then, with effortless confidence, he stood, adjusting the cuffs of his black suit. "Breathtaking."

Daphne's breath hitched, her fingers instinctively brushing the fabric of her dress again. "You clean up nice too."

He chuckled, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Ready to turn some heads?"

"Always."

Theo reached for Daphne's hand with effortless ease, his fingers sliding between hers before he turned it over, palm-up, against his own. His grip was warm, firm—but it was the slow, deliberate way he lifted her hand to his lips that made her breath catch.

One by one, he pressed a lingering kiss on each of her fingers, his lips grazing the delicate skin with unhurried reverence. His dark eyes held hers the entire time. When he finally let go, his thumb traced over her wrist before he murmured, "Let's go.... Our ride's waiting."

He led her downstairs, his black suit perfectly tailored to his tall, lean frame as they stepped into the sleek black car. The drive was quiet, the city lights flickering past them as Daphne stole glances at Theo's sharp profile. His hand rested casually on the wheel, his other arm draped over the center console, fingers occasionally brushing against her knee.

When they finally pulled up to the piers, Daphne frowned, tilting her head. "Why are we here?"

Theo only smirked, stepping out and opening the door for her. He placed a guiding hand on the small of her back as they walked toward the docks, the scent of saltwater thick in the air.

Then, she saw it.

A helicopter, sleek and waiting, its blades still for now but ready to take them wherever he had planned.

Her lips parted in surprise. "You're kidding."

Theo's grin was all mischief and satisfaction as he turned to her. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" He took her hand once more, his voice low and teasing as he whispered against her ear, "I said I was going to show you a good time, didn't I?"

Daphne's breath hitched as she took in the helicopter up close, her pulse thrumming with a mix of excitement and disbelief. The city lights shimmered in the distance, reflecting off the chopper's sleek black exterior.

Theo, ever the picture of control, placed a steady hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the open door.

"Come on," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement at her wide-eyed expression.

Daphne stepped inside carefully, fingers gripping the edges of the seat as she settled in. The moment Theo secured her harness, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary, her heart pounded for an entirely different reason. He took the pilot's seat with practiced ease, flipping switches and pressing buttons with a confidence that sent a thrill through her.

"You're flying this thing?" she asked, her voice breathless as the rotor blades began to whir to life.

Theo shot her a smirk, adjusting his headset before glancing at her. "Wouldn't have put you in here if I wasn't, my love."

Daphne shook her head and laughed. The helicopter lifted smoothly off the ground, and she let out a quiet gasp as the world below them shrank. The city unfolded beneath them like a glittering masterpiece, golden lights stretching for miles, weaving through the streets like rivers of fire.

Her fingers clutched the armrest, her lips slightly parted as she took in the breathtaking view. "This is insane," she whispered, her awe reflecting in her wide eyes.

Theo chuckled, his voice low and warm through the headset. "Better than dinner reservations?"

Daphne turned to him, her heart pounding for reasons beyond just the altitude. "So much better."

Theo maneuvered the helicopter with effortless precision, guiding them over the shimmering cityscape toward the water. Below them, the skyline stretched like a sea of golden lights, the river reflecting the glow in endless ripples. Daphne could barely tear her eyes away from the view, her breath catching when she spotted a rooftop by the waterfront, its sleek, modern structure illuminated by soft ambient lighting.

As the helicopter descended, Theo's grip on the controls remained steady, his jaw set in quiet concentration. The landing was smooth—so impossibly seamless that Daphne barely felt the chopper touch down.

He turned to her with a smirk, unfastening his harness before reaching over to undo hers. "Not bad, huh?"

Daphne exhaled a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Show-off."

Theo chuckled as he stepped out first, then extended his hand to her. The moment her fingers slipped into his, he helped her down with effortless ease, keeping her steady even though her knees felt a little weak—not from the flight, but from him.

The rooftop was breathtaking. Soft lights draped along the perimeter, casting a muted golden glow over the elegant, intimate setting. A private restaurant, nestled in the open air, overlooked the water, its glass walls reflecting the twinkling skyline. The tables were empty except for one—set just for them, with candles flickering in the night breeze.

Daphne turned to Theo, her lips parting in astonishment. "We're having dinner here?...... All alone?"

Theo slid a hand into his pocket, watching her reaction with that signature, knowing smirk. "Of course. Didn't feel like sharing you tonight."

Daphne's heart stuttered. The way he said it—so smooth, so unapologetic—sent warmth curling through her chest.

Theo stepped closer, his hand grazing the small of her back as he led her toward their table. "Now, let's see if I can impress you with dinner, too."

As Theo guided her toward the elegantly set table, Daphne couldn't shake the giddy flutter in her chest. The private rooftop, the helicopter ride, the candlelit dinner—it all felt so... grand. Romantic. Almost like—

Her heart skipped.

Is he going to propose?

The thought made warmth rush to her cheeks. The way he was looking at her, the way he had gone out of his way to make tonight special, she couldn't help but wonder.

Daphne tilted her head, watching him pull out her chair. "Is this our official first date?"

Theo's smile was slow and knowing, as if he had been waiting for her to ask. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering just long enough to make her stomach flutter. "Yes."

Daphne glanced around, taking in the sweeping city view, the candlelight flickering between them, the way Theo looked in that sharp black suit.

"So extravagant," she murmured, shaking her head with a small smile.

Theo's gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment before he said simply, "I wanted to make it memorable."

Daphne arched a brow, playful suspicion dancing in her eyes. "Memorable?"

Theo chuckled, the deep, rich sound making her stomach flip. "You don't believe me?"

Daphne smirked, tilting her chin up slightly. "Oh, I believe you. I just don't know whether to be impressed or concerned."

Theo laughed, leaning back in his chair, watching her with that smoldering, unreadable intensity that always set her nerves alight. "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Daphne took in a deep breath and tucked her hair back. She laughed softly to herself and shook her head. She could barely focus on his words. The way the candlelight flickered between them, the soft sounds of the piano, the sheer extravagance of the evening—it all felt too perfect.

Too deliberate.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her napkin as her mind raced. Was he really going to do it?

Every little action felt like a sign. The rooftop, the private dinner, the way Theo kept looking at her with that unreadable smirk. Was he leading up to something? Would he reach into his pocket at any moment, pull out a velvet box, and—

Her heart hammered against her ribs as Theo reached for the champagne.

Daphne froze as he casually picked up the bottle. The pop of the cork sent a jolt through her, her breath catching as she stared at him, waiting—bracing.

He poured the champagne into two delicate flutes, the golden bubbles rising to the surface like the anticipation swelling inside her.

Oh God, was he going to do it now?

Theo lifted his glass, his gaze locking onto hers with a glint of amusement. "You look like you're about to pass out.... Are you okay?"

Daphne forced a breathy laugh, trying to act normal, but she could feel the warmth creeping up her neck. She picked up her glass, her fingers tightening around the stem. "I—uh—what are we celebrating?"

Theo's grin spread. He leaned down and stole a lingering kiss from her red lips.

"We're celebrating us," he whispered.

Daphne's stomach flipped. Her grip on the glass tightened. Her mind raced, but all she could do was stare at him, her heart pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. Her nerves were unraveling by the second.

She tried to keep her hands still, but her fingers drummed lightly against the tablecloth, then traced the rim of her glass, then fiddled with the delicate chain around her neck. She was fidgeting—badly. And Theo knew it.

He was watching her, enjoying the way she squirmed under his gaze. The corner of his mouth lifted in that knowing smirk, his sharp eyes filled with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, effortlessly relaxed. He wasn't in a rush—he was letting her spiral, letting her overthink, and clearly, he was having fun with it.

Then, as if to send her deeper into her panic, he started talking.

"You know," he murmured. "I don't think I tell you enough how much I love you."

Daphne's fingers tightening around the stem of her glass like a lifeline. The words settled over her, heavy and intoxicating, making her heart pound even harder. Was this it? Was he building up to the moment?

She couldn't take it.

Lifting her glass, she took a long sip of champagne, hoping the bubbles would settle the jittery energy twisting inside her. But it did nothing to steady her. If anything, the cool liquid only made the warmth in her chest spread faster, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

Theo watched her, his expression unreadable except for the slight glint of amusement in his eyes. He took a sip of the champagne in his own glass, taking his time before settingit down again. Unlike her, he wasn't flustered. He wasn't unraveling. He was composed—too composed.

Daphne set her glass down, only to realize she had drained nearly half of it in a matter of seconds. She swallowed hard, forcing another laugh, though it came out thinner this time.

Theo smirked. "Do you want another drink?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah....thank you."

Theo motioned for the staff lingering in the back and one of the waiters quickly came forward to ask Daphen what she wanted to drink. Daphne could hardly think as she asked for the first thing on the menu without looking. She took another sip of her champagne, nearly finishing it, but Theo reached over and gently pried the flute from her fingers before she could down the rest.

"Careful," he said. "I'd like you to remember this night."

Daphne's stomach twisted, and she felt her palms go clammy. Remember this night. Oh god, that sounded like something someone would say before doing something big.

Theo leaned in, resting his forearm on the table, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "You mean the world to me, you know that?"

Daphne nearly choked on air.

She was teetering between excitement and panic, her nerves fraying by the second. If he reached into his pocket—if he got down on one knee—she wasn't sure if she'd faint or burst into tears first.

But Theo just smiled, his thumb tracing slow circles against the stem of his glass as he watched her squirm.

"Ready to order?" Theo asked after a short pause.

Daphne nodded, her head spinning and her tummy tightening. She knew damn well she wouldn't be able to eat a single bite of whatever she ordered, but all she could do was go along with the evening and see what Theo surprised her with.

_____________________________

Gabriel

Gabriel stood in front of the small bathroom mirror, peeling away the damp bandaid from the cut on his neck. The adhesive tugged at his skin, and he winced slightly, tilting his head to get a better look at the wound. It wasn't deep, but it still stung—a sharp reminder of the rough day behind them. He ran his fingers over the skin just below it, sighing. At least they had decided to spend the night in the cabin instead of roughing it out in their tents. He couldn't imagine trying to sleep outside after everything.

He rinsed his hands and reached for a fresh bandaid, pressing it carefully over the cut. His movements were automatic, but his mind was elsewhere—on Lily.

She had barely spoken since they arrived, retreating to one of the small rooms with Wendy without so much as a glance in his direction. That wasn't like her. The usual brightness in her eyes had been replaced with something distant, something guarded. He hated it.

Exhaling, Gabriel leaned against the counter, gripping the edge with both hands. Maybe she just needed space. Maybe she was exhausted. Maybe all the stress of getting lost and the close encounter with the bear was gearing up to trigger a seizure.

Gabriel's jaw tightened as he pushed himself upright. He wasn't going to sleep much tonight, that much he knew. Not with this gnawing feeling in his chest.

Walking back to his bed, he picked up his phone to remind Lily to take her med. His fingers hovered over the screen, about to type out the reminder, when the soft knock at his door made him pause. His brows pulled together. It was late—too late for casual visits.

Crossing the room, he pulled the door open to find Lily standing there, Alexa just behind her. Lily held a basket in her hands, her lips curved in the slightest hint of a smile, but there was something tentative in her expression, like she wasn't sure if she should be here.

"Hey," she said softly. "Can we come in?"

Gabriel stepped aside wordlessly, letting them pass. His gaze flickered between the two of them, confusion settling deep in his chest. He hadn't expected Lily to seek him out, not after how distant she'd been all evening.

Lily placed the basket on the floor and knelt beside it, carefully unpacking its contents. Sandwiches, bags of chips, a thermos of what smelled like hot chocolate. A small candle, unlit, set in the center of it all. The sight made something twist in Gabriel's stomach. It was familiar.

"What—" He swallowed. "What's this?"

Lily lifted her gaze to his, her green eyes steady.

"It's a room picnic," she said, her voice quiet, but there was warmth in it, a careful kind of sincerity. "I thought maybe we could bring it back."

Gabriel exhaled, his chest tightening in ways he had never experienced before. He turned to Alexa, who had her arms crossed but wasn't looking at him with the same guarded distance as before. She was watching Lily instead, something unreadable in her eyes.

Gabriel didn't know what to say, didn't know how to process the way Lily always seemed to see through everything, even the things he thought he hid well.

"I can't believe you told her about room picnic," Alexa muttered to her brother before before shuffling over to the bed and taking a seat beside Lily. "And I can't believe you're crazy enough to plan on."

"It'll be fun," Lily laughed.

Gabriel hesitated, the words forming on his tongue but never making it past his lips. He should send her back. He should tell her this wasn't necessary—that she didn't have to do this for him.

But the thought of turning her away, of watching her pack up everything she had set out so carefully, felt... wrong.

He turned to Alexa, searching for something—an excuse, an out—but his sister wasn't looking at him.

Lily had done this. She had set everything up, completely unaware of the way it would tug at something buried deep inside him. Gabriel swallowed, shifting his weight. He could still say no. He could make up an excuse, tell her it wasn't the same, that she didn't have to go through all this trouble.

But he couldn't.

Gabriel let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Rubbing the back of his neck he slowly sat down, his mind still catching up with everything. His fingers curled over his knee as he watched Lily unwrap a sandwich.

She had done this for Alexa and him.

He didn't understand how someone could be so thoughtful—so effortlessly kind. Lily wasn't just sweet in the way people used the word casually. She was sweet in a way that sneaked up on him, in a way that made his chest feel too full, too tight. She noticed things, saw what people needed even when they didn't ask, and then she went out of her way to give it to them. No hesitation. No expectation of anything in return.

It made him uneasy. Not because he didn't appreciate it, but because he didn't know what to do with it.

Gabriel's gaze shifted toward his sister, watching as she absently scrolled through her phone, barely paying attention while Lily unpacked the basket. He clenched his jaw.

She had planned this—gone through all the effort of recreating something from their childhood, something she had no real connection to, just because she thought it might mean something to them. And Alexa couldn't even be bothered to pretend she cared.

He knew his sister. Knew that deep down, she wasn't indifferent. That if she looked up, if she let herself be present, she would feel it too—the nostalgia, the warmth, the quiet ache of remembering something good. But right now, she was brushing it off, and it stung.

Lily, however, didn't let it show. She smiled, tucking her legs beneath her, her voice light, hopeful.

"Am I missing something?" she asked, glancing between them. "Is this how you guys did it?"

There was a quiet sort of enthusiasm in the way she spoke, a gentle push to get Alexa involved, to make this feel real.

Gabriel saw it—how Lily leaned in just slightly, her green eyes bright with anticipation. She wanted Alexa to be excited. She wanted this to be something.

And for some reason, that made it hurt even more.

Alexa briefly glanced up from her phone, her fingers pausing against the screen. "Yeah," she muttered as her eyes scanned the set up. "Something like that."

Gabriel clenched his jaw, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. Alexa wasn't even trying to meet the girl half way.

But Lily just kept smiling, undeterred.

"Okay, but what else?" she pressed, shifting closer, determination glinting in her eyes. "Did you guys have a specific way you set it up? Did you have, like, a go-to snack? Or—oh!—did you tell stories? I feel like room picnics need stories."

She was trying. She was trying so hard, and Gabriel hated that she had to.

Lily reached into the basket, pulling out a small container. "I made peanut butter sandwiches," she added, glancing between them with hopeful excitement. "I thought that felt... right? I don't know."

Gabriel felt something in his chest pull tighter.

That was their thing. Peanut butter sandwiches on cheap paper towels, sitting cross-legged on the floor, talking about anything and everything until they got too tired to keep their eyes open. He hadn't thought about it in years, but now, the memory hit him with startling clarity.

Alexa finally looked up, blinking at the sandwiches as if seeing them pulled her back into the past. But the moment was brief. She exhaled, tucking her phone away with a sigh, and muttered, "You didn't have to do all this, you know."

Gabriel shot her a sharp look, but before he could say anything, Lily beat him to it.

"I wanted to," she said simply. "I just thought... I don't know. Maybe it'd be nice."

Alexa was quiet for a moment, her fingers drumming against her knee. Then, with a small shake of her head, she slid off the bed and onto the floor beside them, grabbing a bag of chips and tearing it open with practiced ease.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered, shaking her head. But there was something softer in her expression now, something almost reluctant.

Lily beamed, tucking her legs beneath her as she looked between the two siblings. "So, tell me," she prompted, still hopeful. "What else did you guys do during room picnics? What's your favorite memory?"

Gabriel exhaled, leaning back against the bed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't let himself think about their childhood in a long time. But now, with the scent of peanut butter and hot chocolate lingering in the air, with Lily looking at him like she wanted to pull every memory out of him, it was easier to let the past slip through the cracks.

"There was this one time," he started, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "We were maybe eight and nine, and Alexa had this ridiculous idea to sneak out and have a picnic on the roof."

Alexa snorted. "It wasn't ridiculous. It was genius."

"You almost fell," Gabriel reminded her, raising a brow.

"Details," Alexa said with a dismissive wave before turning to Lily. "But the view was amazing. We laid out a blanket, had peanut butter sandwiches, and just stared at the stars for hours."

Gabriel huffed a quiet laugh. "Until Mom found us and nearly lost her mind. I thought we were done for."

Alexa grinned. "But it was worth it."

Lily's smile widened as she listened, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the fabric of her sweater. Gabriel watched her, the soft glow of the bedside lamp catching the brown strands of her hair. She was absorbing the stories, like she could picture every detail in her mind.

He liked that about her.

Maybe that's why, before he could stop himself, he leaned forward slightly and asked, "What about you?"

Lily blinked, her smile faltering just a little. "What about me?"

"Your childhood," Alexa said, tossing a chip into her mouth. "What were your favorite memories?"

Lily's fingers stilled against her sweater. She looked down, something thoughtful crossing her face.

"Well..." she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I used to love summers at my dad's aunt's house. She had this big backyard, full of wildflowers and the tallest oak tree you've ever seen. My brothers and I would spend all day out there, climbing, making flower crowns, pretending we were in some kind of fairytale." A quiet laugh escaped her. "I'd always make Theo be the villain, though. He hated that."

Gabriel found himself watching her more than listening now—watching the way her lips curled when she laughed, the way her eyes brightened with the memory. There was something almost... wistful in her voice.

"You must've been a handful," Alexa teased, reaching for another chip.

Lily grinned. "Oh, I was. But my Aunt Carla adored me anyway."

Gabriel smiled, warmth settling in his chest.

He could listen to her talk for hours.

__________________________

Masona dn Wendy

In Lily's absence, Wendy slipped into Mason's room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor of the cabin.

The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the space, highlighting the sharp angles of Mason's face and the lazy sprawl of his body against the sheets. He lay there, one arm propped behind his head, a book resting in his other hand. At the sight of her, his lips curved into an easy grin, the kind that sent an annoying flutter through her chest—one she stubbornly ignored.

She narrowed her eyes, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Do not think he's cute. Do not think he's cute.

But damn it, he was. His messy hair, the relaxed way he held himself, the stupid dimple that deepened with his smirk—it all worked against her.

Mason's gaze flicked over her, lingering on the oversized hoodie barely covering her shorts. "What, miss me already?" he teased, voice low and amused.

Wendy huffed, stepping closer with a glare. "I told you not to leave marks." Her voice was sharp, but it wavered just slightly. Her skin still ached where his nails had pressed into her hips, the phantom heat of his mouth tracing over her collarbone making her pulse quicken despite her irritation.

Mason's smirk widened. "Yeah? Didn't seem like you minded at the time."

Wendy clenched her jaw, willing away the heat crawling up her neck. "Next time, keep your damn hands to yourself," she snapped, though even she wasn't convinced by her own words.

Mason merely chuckled, setting his book aside and patting the space beside him. "Come here, tough girl."

She hesitated—because she knew if she got too close, he'd ruin her resolve all over again.

"No," she said.

Mason raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her resistance. "No?" he repeated, as if the very idea of her denying him was ridiculous.

Wendy huffed and lifted the hem of her hoodie just enough to expose the angry red nail marks curving along her hips. "Look at this," she said, annoyed. "You have zero self-control."

Mason whistled low, his gaze dragging over the marks with a slow, satisfied smirk. "Damn. Guess I got carried away." He didn't even try to sound apologetic.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "I told you not to leave anything noticeable."

"Relax, they're not that bad." He leaned forward slightly, inspecting the marks like he was admiring his own handiwork. Then, as if remembering something, he reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. Wendy watched with suspicion as he dug around before pulling out a small pack of band-aids.

Her eyes narrowed when she saw what they were. "No way," she said, crossing her arms. "You carry around Avengers band-aids?"

Mason grinned, peeling one open. "Hell yeah. You never know when you'll need to patch someone up." He held up one with Iron Man on it. "This one's my favorite."

Wendy snorted. "You're such a child."

"And yet, you're the one standing here whining about a couple of scratches." He gestured for her to come closer, but she hesitated again.

"This is dumb," she muttered.

Mason ignored her and reached out, lightly tapping her thigh. "C'mon, let me fix you up."

With an exaggerated sigh, she finally sat on the edge of the bed, muttering under her breath about how ridiculous this was. But she didn't stop him when he carefully smoothed the tiny bandages over her skin, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

She refused to look at him. Because if she did, she knew she'd see that smug, knowing smile—the one that told her he wasn't taking any of this seriously. The worst part? She wasn't sure if she was, either.

______________________

Theo and Daphne

Daphne sat at the edge of the bed, still in her red dress, her mind spinning as she watched Theo unbutton his crisp black shirt, revealing the lean, toned muscles beneath. He moved with an effortless ease, completely unaware—or perhaps very aware—of the confusion swirling inside her.

She had been so sure. Every single moment of the night had felt like it was leading up to something bigger. The rooftop dinner, the champagne, the way Theo kept talking about how much he loved her—it had all felt like a prelude to a proposal. But now, here he was, casually getting ready for bed like it had been just a date.

Her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of it. Maybe she had read too much into things? Maybe she had gotten ahead of herself?

Theo glanced up as he shrugged off his shirt, his sharp eyes catching hers in the dim light. "You're quiet," he noted, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Thinking about something?"

Daphne blinked, struggling to school her expression. "No."

He arched a brow, clearly not buying it.

She inhaled, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress. Should she ask? Should she say something about how she had spent the entire night expecting him to pull out a ring? But the thought of admitting it—of letting him know how much she had built up this moment in her head—made her want to die on the spot.

Theo ran a hand through his hair before walking over to her, effortlessly sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.

"Liar," he murmured, his lips brushing over hers in the softest tease before pulling away, leaving her even more flustered.

And just like that, he turned and headed to the bathroom, leaving Daphne sitting there, completely stunned.

She had spent the entire night waiting—for something, for anything. And yet, Theo had left her hanging.

Was this some kind of game to him? Did he know she had been expecting a proposal? Was he messing with her?

Daphne huffed, kicking off her heels and flopping back against the bed with a groan.

This man was going to drive her insane.

_____________________________

Lily

The night wound down earlier than expected. Alexa, full from the snacks and worn out from the nostalgia, had stretched with a loud yawn and announced she was going to bed, barely mumbling a goodnight before disappearing. That left just Lily and Gabriel, sitting amidst the remnants of their room picnic—crumbs on the blanket, empty wrappers, and half-finished mugs of hot chocolate.

Gabriel let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair before glancing at Lily. "I'll help you clean up."

Lily blinked. "You don't have to."

"You did all the work setting it up." He was already gathering the paper towels and empty containers, his movements methodical, precise. Lily watched him for a second before smiling and following suit, folding up the blanket and tucking the leftover snacks back into the basket.

They worked in silence, the warmth of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the room. Every now and then, their hands brushed—fingertips grazing as they reached for the same wrapper or brushed against the handle of a mug. Gabriel didn't acknowledge it, but Lily felt the tiny spark of it every time.

When they were done, Lily hoisted the picnic basket into her arms and turned toward the door. "Well," she said lightly, "I should go....I'm sure Jake is wondering where I am."

Gabriel nodded, shifting his weight. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, his expression unreadable. "Hey."

Lily stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Gabriel hesitated, looking at random things in the room, then at her. "Thanks. For..." He gestured vaguely, awkwardly. "This."

Lily's heart warmed at that. He wasn't the kind of guy who threw out gratitude easily, and she knew how much this must have meant—more than he was willing to say.

She smiled, soft and knowing. "Anytime."

And as she walked out into the dimly lit hallway, she felt lighter, like maybe—just maybe—she'd helped bring something back between him and Alexa. Even if just for a night.

__________________________

Mason and Wendy

Wendy stirred, blinking groggily as the golden morning light filtered through the curtains. She shifted slightly, feeling the unfamiliar weight of a blanket over her and the warmth of another body beside her. Her heart skipped a beat.

Mason.

It took a moment for last night to piece itself back together—hanging out in his room, the conversations, the laughter, the way exhaustion had eventually pulled her under. She hadn't meant to fall asleep here, much less on his bed. And now, here she was, curled up beside him, comfortable and warm.

A part of her knew she should get up and leave before he woke up. Mason would not let her live this down. He'd smirk, tease her relentlessly, call her soft or clingy—as if she hadn't spent months proving she was immune to his charm. She needed to go.

But she didn't want to move.

The mattress was ridiculously comfortable, and his scent—clean soap, something warm and faintly citrusy—lingered in the sheets. She had never really noticed how quiet it felt lying next to him. Her body resisted every urge to slip away.

Just as she finally convinced herself to move, she felt Mason shift beside her. His breathing, slow and steady, hitched slightly. Wendy's pulse jumped. Oh no.

Before she could think, she squeezed her eyes shut and went completely still.

She could feel him waking up—the slow stretch of his body, the deep inhale as he stirred. The bed dipped slightly as he moved, and for a moment, she thought he might look over and catch her. But she stayed frozen, breathing evenly, hoping—praying—that he wouldn't realize she was awake.

If she could just wait him out, he might get up first. She just had to stay perfectly still.

And then she felt it—his gaze on her.

Her fingers twitched beneath the blanket, but she didn't move. Didn't react.

Mason, don't say anything. Don't be annoying. Just get up and leave.

But she knew him. And she had a sinking feeling this was about to backfire.

Wendy barely had time to process the weight of Mason's gaze before she felt the bed shifting again, his body inching closer. Her breath caught in her throat.

No. No, no, no.

She had expected him to get up, maybe groan about the morning or stretch dramatically. Instead, he moved toward her.

A slow, deliberate movement.

Before she could react, his arm slid around her waist, pulling her against him with an effortless ease that sent a jolt of heat through her entire body. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. But she had no choice—she had to keep pretending to be asleep.

Her body locked up for a split second before forcing herself to relax, letting her muscles go limp, her breathing remain steady. Inside, however, she was screaming.

Mason was cuddling her. In his sleep? Or was he awake?

His chest was solid and warm against her back, his arm draped lazily over her like he had done this a million times before. His breath fanned against the back of her neck, slow and even, as if he was still lost in sleep.

Wendy's fingers curled into the sheets, her entire body hyper-aware of every point of contact between them. The heat of his skin through his shirt. The way his hand rested against her stomach, fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of her hoodie.

She swallowed hard.

If she moved, he'd wake up. If she flinched, he'd know she wasn't asleep. And if he knew she wasn't asleep—oh, she would never hear the end of it.

So she stayed still. Kept her breathing soft and even.

And prayed to every higher power in existence that Mason wouldn't wake up and make this even worse.

What the hell, Theo! Why are you doing this to our poor Daphne?