The Muntjac's wooden planks creak beneath my feet as I follow Eliot down the narrow hallway. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air - sandalwood and something sharp that always makes my pulse quicken. We've barely been alone for five minutes since we started this godforsaken quest, and I can feel the tension coiled between us like a spring.

He pauses at the cabin door, turning to face me. The dim light catches the edge of his jaw, casting shadows that make him look both younger and older than he is. "You wanted to talk?" he asks, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly attractive way he has.

I swallow hard, suddenly uncertain how to begin. How do you tell someone you love them when you've already had a lifetime together and lost it all? When you're not even sure if this timeline will let you keep what you have now?

"I just..." I trail off, staring at the space between us. When I look up again, Eliot's expression has softened. He takes a step closer, his hand brushing mine - a question and an invitation.

Before I can respond, a shout echoes down the hallway. "Hey! You two! Get up here! We need to talk about the next key!" Margo's voice cuts through the moment like a knife.

Eliot sighs, his hand dropping away from mine. For a second, I see something like disappointment flash across his face before his usual mask of indifference returns. "Duty calls," he says, stepping back.

But he doesn't move toward the door. He's waiting - for me, for whatever I was about to say. The moment hangs suspended between us, fragile as glass.