The city lights slipped farther and farther behind, the roadside trees passing like dark shadows.
Beyond the window stretched a deep blue sky, and inside the car, soft jazz flowed in low waves.
From behind the wheel, one hand on the steering, Noah glanced at Celeste in the passenger seat.
She'd pulled on the hoodie tossed in the backseat, hair tied loosely, face faintly marked by fatigue.
Even like this—lit by the dim glow of passing streetlamps—she looked almost too good.
"Hey. Lose the face. You're clocking out, not in."
Eyes half-closed, she murmured,
"This is kidnapping… You really went all-out with the surprise."
Noah chuckled, easing the speed down.
"I'll make sure you have no regrets, Madam Chairwoman."
At that, she let out a quiet laugh and turned her head toward the window.
The pines outside thickened, the road shifting into gravel.
Ahead, a tall black iron gate came into view.
"Here we are."
At the push of a button, the gate opened soundlessly, and the car rolled inside.
A private glamping site—each lodge set far apart.
One, tucked half-hidden in the trees, waited for them:
a dome of curved glass with the forest wrapped around it.
"This place is… gorgeous."
Stepping inside, Celeste looked up at the star-like lights scattered across the ceiling.
Warm lamps and a fireplace bathed the space in a soft glow; a king bed lay dressed in monochrome linens, quietly holding the room together.
Setting down a cooler, Noah pulled out a bottle of wine, brushing dust from the glass.
"Had to fight for this booking. They were packed."
"Noah."
"Mm?"
"Unless you're planning to call a genie out of that thing… open it. Now."
He paused—then broke into a grin.
"Yes, ma'am."
A little later, on the deck—
The fire cracked, and two glasses met with a soft chime.
"To… breaking the rules," she murmured.
He raised a brow.
"And here I thought you were the rules."
She ignored that, tipping her head back.
"Look at those stars. I could stay up all night just watching."
"Saving that one," he said.
"Cancel it."
"Too late. Heard it, saved it—running it on loop till morning."
Her laugh tipped her head toward him,
and he let it rest against his shoulder.
"Not bad, huh?"
"…Yeah. Worth it."
A pause.
"Thanks. For bringing me."
He exhaled through his nose.
"…That's all I needed to hear."
For a while, only the fire filled the space.
Then she tugged her blanket higher.
"Ten minutes. Just closing my eyes."
"Go ahead."
Her breathing slowed, settling into a steady rhythm.
He watched her a moment longer before setting his glass aside.
The firelight traced her cheek; every wall she kept up was gone now.
"Knew it," he murmured.
He carried her glass inside, then returned to crouch in front of her.
The air had cooled, enough for her shoulders to twitch under the blanket.
Sliding one arm under her knees and the other around her back, he lifted her easily.
"…Smaller than I remember,"
he muttered, almost to himself.
She stayed still in his arms, quiet and warm,
until he set her down on the bed inside the dome.
Adjusting the cushions, he smoothed back a strand of hair.
Pulling the covers over her, he brushed her cheek once, lightly.
"Goodnight, Celeste."
Lowering the lights, he sank into the sofa at her side,
and stayed there—breathing with her,
letting the night wind itself down.