Rafe did not sleep that night.
He sat in the wooden chair beside the bed, watching Ayan breathe softly under the blanket. The quiet inside the small cabin felt different from the quiet in the forest outside. The cabin was warm, peaceful. But inside Rafe's chest, something was moving in ways he didn't understand.
The sky turned pale and soft as morning came. A thin line of sunlight touched Ayan's hair. The boy didn't wake at first. He lay curled on one side, wrapped in the jacket Rafe had given him. His face was peaceful but still held a shadow, like fear was hiding somewhere deep.
Rafe stood slowly and stretched his stiff shoulders. His body was tired, but his mind was wide awake. He walked to the stove, set some water to boil, and lit the flame.
The soft sound of fire woke Ayan immediately.
He sat up fast too fast , his eyes wide and scared. His breath came quick, like he expected danger.
Rafe turned quickly.
"Hey. It's okay," he said, keeping his voice gentle. "It's just the stove. I m making tea."
Ayan blinked, breathing slowly calming down. He looked around the room, then back at Rafe. The fear slowly faded from his face, replaced by confusion.
"Tea?" he whispered.
Rafe nodded. "A warm drink. Come here."
Ayan hesitated before he stepped off the bed. His bare feet touched the wooden floor, and he winced at the cold. But he still walked toward Rafe, moving slowly like each step had to be checked first.
Rafe placed a warm cup in front of him at the table.
"It's hot," he said. "Blow first."
Ayan copied him, blowing gently. Then he took a small sip.
The surprise on his face made Rafe's lips twitch into the closest thing he had to a smile.
"You like it?" he asked.
Ayan nodded.
"Yes."
For a moment, they sat in quiet. Not heavy quiet like last night—this was softer. Ayan kept glancing at Rafe, like checking if he was real, or if Rafe was going to leave.
Rafe noticed.
"You don't need to be scared of me," he said.
Ayan lowered his head. He held the cup with both hands, warming his fingers.
Rafe leaned forward slightly.
"Ayan," he said, "do you remember anything from before I found you?"
Ayan froze. His fingers tightened around the cup.
Then he gave a small shake of his head.
"No," he said quietly. "Only… the place. And… noise."
Rafe didn't ask more. The boy's voice was too fragile, and the fear in his eyes told him not to push.
"You don't have to tell me anything yet," Rafe said. "Not until you want to."
Ayan looked up slowly, surprised by the softness in Rafe's tone.
Rafe continued, "But for now… you stay here. With me."
Ayan's eyes widened.
"I… can stay?"
"Yes."
Ayan looked at his cup again. His shoulders relaxed a little, like he had been waiting for those words.
"…Thank you," he whispered.
Rafe felt something warm press inside his chest.
Later in the morning
Rafe stepped outside with an axe. He needed to cut wood for the stove. The air was cold, and the forest was silent except for birds waking up.
He lifted the axe and swung it down. The sound echoed through the clearing.
A soft creak made him turn.
Ayan stood on the small porch, still wearing Rafe's jacket that reached almost to his knees. He watched Rafe quietly, his dark eyes following every movement.
"You shouldn't walk barefoot," Rafe said. "The ground is cold."
Ayan looked down, then back up. "I… wanted to see you."
Rafe's hand tightened around the axe handle.
"See me?"
Ayan nodded. "You left the room. I was… scared you wouldn't come back."
Rafe exhaled slowly.
"I am not leaving you," he said. "Not now."
Ayan seemed to take those words into himself, like they were something precious. He walked closer, but kept a small distance. Rafe pointed to a wooden stump.
"Sit there. Just watch. Stay warm."
Ayan obeyed. He sat quietly, knees pulled close, watching every swing of the axe. His eyes were calm now, not frightened—more like curious, or studying.
Rafe tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. But Ayan's gaze stayed fixed on him, gentle but steady.
Inside the cabin
Rafe placed the chopped wood near the stove. Ayan followed him inside, close but never touching. Like a shadow learning how to stay near someone.
"You hungry?" Rafe asked.
Ayan nodded slowly.
Rafe cooked simple food—eggs, toast, a small piece of fruit. Ayan watched him with full attention, like the way Rafe cracked eggs and used the pan was something magical.
When Rafe placed the plate in front of him, Ayan stared for a second, then took a small bite.
His eyes brightened. "It's… good."
Rafe smirked. "Eat."
Ayan finished everything, almost too fast. Rafe noticed the way he held the fork—carefully, like he wasn't used to tools. He also noticed how Ayan looked at the empty plate afterward, anxious, like more food might not come again.
Rafe sat beside him and gently touched his chin.
"Hold still."
Ayan froze as Rafe wiped a small crumb from the corner of his lip. Ayan's breath hitched slightly. His eyes lifted to meet Rafe's—wide, soft, unsure.
Rafe didn't move for a moment. Their faces were close. Too close.
Then he lowered his hand and stepped back.
"Better now."
Ayan looked down, cheeks slightly warm with embarrassment.
Something quiet passed between the soft and warm like early morning light.
Not everything was calm
As Rafe washed the dishes, he caught something a faint shadow moving outside the window.
He stiffened.
Ayan noticed the change in his body. "Rafe?"
"Stay here," Rafe said, grabbing his gun.
Ayan's eyes widened with fear.
Rafe walked outside, scanning the forest. The trees were still. The wind was gentle. But Rafe felt it—someone had been close. Watching them. Tracking.
After a minute, he returned inside. Ayan stood by the table, worry written all over his face.
"Was someone there?" Ayan asked, voice thin.
Rafe didn't lie, but he didn't want to scare him either.
"I don't know yet."
Ayan stepped closer—too close—and looked up at him.
"Are we safe?"
Rafe looked down at the small boy, the trust and fear mixing in his eyes, and something inside him tightened.
"Yes," he said firmly. "Nothing will happen to you. I promise."
Ayan breathed out shakily. Then, without thinking, he leaned lightly against Rafe's arm. Just a tiny touch. A small sign that he believed in him.
Rafe didn't move away.
He let Ayan lean on him, just for a moment.
Outside, the forest stayed silent.
But Rafe could feel it—
Someone was coming.
And his life, and Ayan's life, were about to change.
Again.
continue.........