The car hums low and steady beneath me, a quiet vibration threading through the leather seat. My head rests against Silas's shoulder, the fabric of his coat soft and warm beneath my cheek, carrying the faint scent of him—something clean and familiar, something that has quietly become the anchor of my restless nights. His presence is solid, grounding.
I drift in that warm, suspended space between sleep and waking, where time loses its edges and the world softens into something bearable.
Then, slowly, my eyes open.
I blink. Once. Twice. The weight of sleep still clings to my lashes. I rub them gently with the back of my hand, coaxing the world back into focus.
Ahead of me, the road stretches wide and dry, bathed in sunlight so bright it feels almost foreign.
No snow.
No white.
