The cabin was quiet except for the soft whisper of wind threading through the eaves, carrying with it the faint scent of pine from the forest beyond. The pale light of early evening spilled through the window, touching everything in its path with a muted gold—his white hair especially, which seemed to catch the glow and keep it, as though the sun had been persuaded to linger a little longer for him.

You lay side by side atop the unmade bed, the blankets in a comfortable tangle beneath you. Your head rested near his shoulder, close enough to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Phainon’s hand found yours without thought, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin—spirals, lines, the occasional tap as if keeping time to a song only he could hear. Your other hand found its way into his hair, brushing it idly between your fingers.

He was speaking softly about something trivial—how the blackberries down by the river would be ripe in a few days, how you should go and pick them before the birds got their fill. His voice had the lazy cadence of a man utterly at peace, every word stretched by the kind of calm that only came when he felt safe. And here, with you, he always did.

You smiled faintly at his words, though your eyes lingered on the ceiling. There was a stillness in your chest that wasn’t quite peace—it was the fragile kind of quiet that came before the storm, the kind built on moments you wished you could freeze forever. You could feel the truth of what was to come pressing against the edges of your mind, a shadow that did not belong in this golden light.

But you looked at him anyway. His eyes—clear and bright even in repose—turned to meet yours, and his smile was small but so utterly genuine it hurt. There was warmth in it, the kind that wrapped around you like a blanket, that made you forget the cold even existed.

“I could stay like this forever,” he whispered, voice barely more than a breath. His thumb brushed against your knuckles in a quiet rhythm, as if sealing the thought into reality.

Your throat tightened, but you returned the smile, letting your head rest fully against him. You didn’t tell him that forever was never promised—that for them, it was an even rarer thing. You simply listened to his heartbeat, memorizing its tempo, letting it anchor you here in this moment where nothing could reach you.