The night air was heavy and still as we emerged from the tunnel, damp earth giving way to the forest floor.
Moonlight spilled through the trees, pale and silver, casting everything in a fragile, fragile glow.
I stumbled forward, breathing hard, heart still hammering from the descent—and from what we'd shared below.
Santiago moved just ahead, his steps measured, eyes flicking to every shadow. Even here, he was alert. Even here, he held himself apart.
"Did it… notice?" I whispered, more to myself than to him.
Santiago didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened. "It felt us. It'll remember. But… it didn't act. Not fully. Down there, we were… muted. Invisible to its eyes. A momentary blind spot."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "So it was real… that space… we could be… us?"
He didn't meet my eyes immediately.
When he did, his gaze was sharp, assessing, but something softened underneath it—just a fraction.
"Real," he admitted. "But fleeting. Dangerous. The Veil always senses when something is wrong—or different. We can't stay long. Even here, it knows we're… gone from its reach."
I shivered, thinking about the warmth of him just below the surface of that darkness, the brush of his fingers against mine, the silent closeness we'd shared. "I wanted more," I whispered, voice barely audible.
Santiago's hand hovered near mine, just for a moment, careful not to bridge the distance. "I know," he said softly. "So did I. Every second. But that's why we're alive. That's why you're still here."
I watched him, trying to memorize everything—the line of his jaw, the tilt of his head, the way he breathed when he restrained himself.
My chest ached with longing, frustration, and admiration all at once.
"I feel like… we could stay forever," I said, letting the words escape, reckless.
"We can't," he replied firmly, though the edge in his voice softened, just slightly. "The Veil would notice eventually. It senses when its rules are bent. When its balance is threatened. The longer we linger, the higher the risk. Not for me—but for you."
I swallowed hard, nodding. I could feel the truth in his words.
Every instinct screamed to reach for him, to close the distance, to let my hand brush against his.
But the memory of what had happened before—Pedro, the Veil, the rules—kept me cautious.
Still… I couldn't resist the silent connection. Our eyes met, and in that gaze, we spoke volumes without touching.
"Someday," I whispered into the night, "we won't have to hide. Not from it. Not from anyone."
Santiago's gaze lingered on me, gold eyes sharp, unyielding, but touched with something softer, almost private. "Someday," he echoed. "But not yet. We survive first. Then… we can take the rest."
I nodded, leaning back slightly, letting the cool night air wash over me.
Safe for now. Safe together, in this fleeting pocket of quiet.
The forest was still.
The Veil pulsed somewhere beyond, waiting, watching.
But here, in the muted shadows, we could be ourselves.
And for the first time in months, I felt something like hope.