The air around them had grown warm, heavy with the pull between their bodies. Lyn cupped Alex's face, pulling him closer, her fingers sliding into his hair as their lips met again. His hands traced her sides gently, sending small shivers through her, until a soft moan escaped her lips—one that jolted him back to reality.
Alex suddenly pulled away, breath unsteady. Before she could speak, he swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall, pushing open the door of a quiet room far from the others. When he laid her on the soft mattress, Lyn's confusion melted at the tenderness in his eyes.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "No one's here. No one will hear us unless they try."
His voice was low, reassuring—warm enough to chase away every fear.
Lyn stared at him, her expression shifting into something deeper and more fragile. "Alex… promise me one thing."
He nodded, though uncertainty flashed in his eyes.
"If anything happens to me… take care of my brother. He's been sick since childhood. I can't bear the thought of losing him."
"Don't say that," Alex murmured, brushing a tear from her cheek before it could fall. "We'll survive this. I won't let anything happen to you. To either of you."
Her lips curved into a trembling smile, and then she drew him closer again. Their kiss deepened—slow, familiar, almost desperate—as if they were clinging to something precious in a world determined to take everything away.
Clothes slipped away between them, not rushed, but with the soft urgency of two people who had missed each other too much. Their bodies moved together naturally, drawn back into a rhythm they'd always known, full of heat and longing. Lyn's breaths came faster, Alex's hands moved over her with reverence, and the world outside the room faded completely.
When they finally sank into each other fully, their movements were slow at first—gentle, seeking—before growing more intense. They held on to each other tightly, as if letting go even for a moment would break the fragile magic between them. When Alex buried his face against her neck, she felt the tremble in his breath, the unspoken fear and love tangled inside him.
Time blurred. Their whispered names, shared smiles, and soft gasps became the only sounds in the room. When they finally collapsed together, chests rising and falling rapidly, Lyn rested her head against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"I wish we could stay like this forever," she murmured.
"Me too," he breathed. "And we'll try. We'll grow old together… somehow."
She let out a small laugh. "I'd love to see you old. I always wondered why you never grow a beard. I've never seen you with one."
He raised an eyebrow. "So you don't like me because I'm not a bearded man?"
"Don't say that," she scolded gently, poking his nose. "I want you more than anything. I just want to see every version of you—including the one with a beard someday."
"What if…" He paused, eyes darkening just slightly. "What if I don't live long enough to grow old?"
"Alex," she said firmly, her tone sharp with fear. "Don't talk about dying. We just had our one perfect night—you're not ruining it with that word."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm just… being honest. No one knows their time. I just—"
His voice cracked, barely audible.
She opened her mouth to comfort him, but he had already pulled her close, his hand sliding gently through her hair. A single tear escaped him, disappearing before she could see.
"Just… remember tonight, Lyn," he murmured as his eyes grew heavier. "In case we don't make it."
She pressed into him, holding him even tighter as sleep began to pull them both under. Despite the danger waiting for them beyond dawn, this moment—this one stolen night—was theirs.
And it was perfect.