The first thing that she felt was the heat.
Not the sunrise though thin streaks of gold leaked through the tent seams but the heavy warmth that clung to her skin like a secret.
Her breath came quick, shallow. The sleeping bag was a twisted mess around her legs. Her heart wouldn't slow down.
Fragments of the dream lingered, slippery and bold.Shadows of hands. The low moans that weren't just one voice.
Zain's steady grey eyes. Alzan's easy grin. Junaid's dark, unreadable stare.
Each flash dissolved before she could hold it, leaving behind a pulse that thudded all through her.
Get up.Her mind barked the order, but her body stayed heavy, as if the dream still had her caged.
Outside, the world was damp and hushed.
Rain must've passed in the night; the ground smelled of wet pine and smoke from the dying fire.
She unzipped the tent flap.
The camp was already awake.
Alzan leaned against a tree, shirt half-buttoned, layered necklaces catching the morning light. He was laughing at something on his phone, the sound low and rich.
Zain crouched by the embers, quiet and precise, coaxing a small flame back to life.
And Junaid black shirt sleeves pushed up, hair still messy from sleep stood a little apart, scanning the woods like he belonged to them.
All three looked up when she stepped out.
Her pulse spiked.
"Morning, Simmi," Alzan said first, voice warm and teasing. His grin lingered a beat too long, like he could read the restless night in her eyes."Woah, where's that nickname coming from?"
Zain's glance was brief but steady, a flicker of something unreadable passing before he turned back to the fire.
Junaid didn't speak. He just watched.
Patient,Calm.
Like he knew or maybe he always looked like that.
She forced a casual smile, though her throat felt tight.
Every move the way she pushed her hair back, the way she reached for the kettle felt louder than it should.
Every glance from them pressed against the echo of the dream.
It was just a fucking dream, she told herself. Just a dream.
But when Alzan handed her a tin mug and their fingers brushed when Zain's eyes lingered a fraction too long,when Junaid finally tilted his head and offered the faintest smirk her heartbeat betrayed her.
The night might be over.
The tension had only begun
Breakfast smelled of smoke and cardamom.
Zain's quiet efficiency filled the clearing; he'd managed to heat water, slice fruit, and stack plates before anyone else could even pretend to help.
She sat on a smooth rock near the fire, knees drawn up, pretending to sip her tea while her mind kept looping pieces of that dream she didn't dare name.
Alzan plopped down beside her with his usual careless grace, shoulder bumping hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You look like you ran a marathon in your sleep," he said, eyes glittering. "Nightmares?"
Her grip on the mug tightened. "Just… weird dreams," she said, hoping it sounded casual.
Alzan's grin widened, slow and wicked. "Weird's my favorite category."
Before she could answer, Junaid appeared, dropping a bundle of kindling with a thud.
His black shirt clung to him from the misty air, sleeves still rolled, jaw set.
"Eat," he said simply, eyes cutting briefly to hers.
It wasn't a request it never was but the quiet command made her stomach flip anyway.
Zain caught her glance and offered a small, knowing half-smile as he poured more tea. There was nothing obvious in his expression, yet it felt like he could read every thought she was trying to hide.
She focused on the steam curling from her cup.
The sounds of the forest waterfall, birds, the soft crackle of fire felt almost too loud.
Every accidental brush of Alzan's knee, every flicker of Junaid's gaze, every calm movement from Zain pressed against the edges of that restless night.
The dream was supposed to fade with daylight.
Instead, daylight only made it sharper.
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So shoutout to absolute_solitude for giving my story a chance with providing 3 power stones.