Light seeped in quietly, almost cautiously, over the bed.
Beyond the glass wall, the morning fog was lifting, and soft sunlight drifted like tiny motes in the air.
The light filtering through the leaves couldn't pierce the curtains, yet it lay on her closed eyelids like a gentle weight.
Celeste slowly opened her eyes.
She tried to move, only to realize she was resting on the pillow of his arm.
Noah's arm was tucked beneath her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear.
"…You're awake?"
She turned her head at the sound of his quiet voice—
and found him smiling.
"No. Still asleep."
"Yeah? Then roll over a bit—my arm's going numb."
"You brat—!"
Noah laughed, nudging her to the other side before pulling her back again and brushing her lips with a light kiss.
"Sorry. I must've dozed off last night."
"Mm. You'd better be sorry. I spent all night trying not to bother you, and now the sheep I counted are enough to fill every pasture in New Zealand."
She laughed, shaking her head.
"You're ridiculous."
Pulling her a little closer into his arms, Noah murmured,
"It's only you. If you're laughing, I'm happy. Which means…"
"…What?"
"Tonight, even if I'm asleep, I'm waking up for it."
"Oh, for—!"
A Walk Through the Woods, Meeting You at the Edge of the Season
The forest had grown deep, the air no longer just cool but edged with chill.
Most of the trees had already shed their leaves, and the sound of brittle foliage rustling underfoot never stopped.
Celeste kept her hands buried in her pockets, fingers brushing the scarf around her neck.
Noah carried a warm thermos, filled with the dark coffee he'd brewed that morning.
"You always liked this kind of thing?" he asked.
"What kind of thing?"
"Taking your time, walking through leaves, being somewhere quiet with no one else around."
She thought for a moment before answering.
"I can't say I've done much camping, so I didn't know before…but right now? I like it. The smell of the woods, the sound of the leaves… and being here with you, no worries at all."
Noah glanced at her with a smile, opened the thermos, took a sip, and handed it to her.
"It's warm."
"…Thanks."
She drank carefully, cupping the lid with both hands.
The silence between them wasn't awkward.
The crunch of leaves, the wind brushing past branches, the faint sound of birds far away—all of it said more than words could.
"Your hand," Noah said quietly.
She looked at his outstretched hand, then placed hers in it.
The moment his warmth sank into her cold skin, Celeste drew in a tiny breath.
They walked on like that, saying nothing, the distance between them already closer than words—
Until suddenly, as if on cue, rain began to pour.
"Oh, no—! It's raining!"
Laughing, Noah tugged her along.
"Run!"
They sprinted like children, rain pelting down, wind pushing at their clothes.
Even the downpour felt exhilarating.
By the time they stumbled into the glamping dome, Celeste was shaking out her wet hair, breathless.
"God… that was crazy…"
Noah looked her over and touched her forehead.
"You'll catch a cold like this. Take those off—I'll get towels."
"What? Here?"
"You look like a soaked puppy, and you're steaming. No time for modesty."
In seconds, he was back with two large towels and fresh clothes, peeling off her wet hoodie with firm, hurried hands.
"You never listen. You'll get sick," he scolded.
"God, what are you, my dad?" she teased through a laugh.
His touch was brisk but warm, drying her neck, shoulders, arms—like tending to a child.
"Your underwear?" he asked, eyes still on his task.
"Of course it's wet."
At that, he finally looked—and saw her as she was:
hair damp and loose,
towel hanging carelessly over her shoulders,
skin faintly flushed from the rain,
eyes meeting his without a flicker of embarrassment.
His chest tightened.
"…What?" she asked softly.
"Just realizing what I've done,"
he murmured.
"Come here."
Before the words were done, he leaned in, pressing a careful kiss to her lips.
She closed her eyes and looped her arms around his neck, and the kiss deepened.
The towel slipped from her shoulder.
She shivered—but the moment his hand closed over her, the tremor stilled.
Noah's arm slid around her waist, drawing her in.
Celeste drew in a faint breath, then let her eyes fall closed.
He sat down on the edge of the bed with her in his arms.
Her body still held the dampness of her hair, and even the air between them seemed to tremble softly.
On the blanket, their bodies folded together as if sinking into deep water.
There was no rush, no impatience.
Every unspoken feeling they'd hidden until now was passing slowly between fingers and lips.
Noah's mouth trailed along the curve of her neck, his hand finding her side, her waist, then sliding over the outside of her thigh, holding her gently.
His fingers slipped beneath her underwear, and she didn't resist.
Wrapped in the blanket up to her chest, she looked at him quietly.
"Aren't you going to take your clothes off?"
Noah followed her gaze to his own soaked shirt.
The wet fabric clung to his skin, his body trembling faintly with cold.
"Oh—right," he said with a short laugh.
Rising slowly, he peeled off his shirt and pants.
The damp cloth slid from his shoulders and pooled to the floor,
revealing the lines of his body.
Celeste drew in a breath before she could stop herself.
Not overly bulky, but strong, his frame was lean and well-built, water still clinging to his skin, making him all the more striking.
Catching her gaze, he gave a crooked smile and towel-dried himself roughly.
"Too much?"
"…Well..."
"Uncomfortable?"
"No." She shook her head.
"I like it."
Noah came to her slowly, as though reading each shift in her expression like a line of text.
With her eyes closed, she reached for him.
"Come here…"
He lifted her leg and aligned himself.
Just before their bodies met, he rested his forehead on her shoulder, catching his breath—
Then eased into her.
Heat enveloped him, tight and unyielding, yet impossibly soft.
The moment her body took him in, they both let out a low sound.
"Ah…"
"You okay?"
"…Yeah. Feels good."
His arms locked around her waist as he began to move,
slow at first, finding the rhythm.
Each thrust was deep, deliberate,
the sound of wet fabric and skin faint beneath the blanket.
She looped her arms around his waist,
her back arching to meet him,
her chest pressing against his.
As their breaths grew rougher,
Noah drove into her harder, deeper.
"Ha… more…"
"God… you're beautiful."
He lifted her thigh higher, closing the space between them,
driving on without pause until they were both at the brink.
"I'm… close…"
"Come with me."
He pushed all the way in one last time,
burying himself to the deepest point—and they came together.
Without pulling away,
he held her tight,
their foreheads resting together,
breathing in sync.
Her arms circled his back as she whispered,
"I love it… I really do."
Instead of answering, he kissed her forehead.
And in a voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the air,
he murmured,
"I love it too… enough that I could die right now without regret."