Page 73 of Shadowed Whispers

I shrug his words off as the sound of running water slowly greets me. “I always wondered what it would be like to have siblings and have that one person who always had your back.”

“It’s nice,” he admits. “Even if I’m trying to keep them alive.”

I’m thankful when the little space I keep a secret opens up before us, and I step to the side. My eyes land on my little pallet of blankets, and I internally wince. I need to come down here to collect them and take them to get washed.

“Whoa.” He laughs as he steps inside.

There isn’t much light in here, but there is a small slice of sunlight that finds its way in from the waterfall above. “It’s magical down here.”

I step over to the hot spring. It would honestly feel amazing on my muscles right now. I can almost hear thunder rumble in the distance, but the light streaming down from above never wavers. “Peaceful.

Leo’s head tilts to the side, his eyes searching mine as if he’s trying to read an unspoken story written in my gaze. “You come here alone?” he asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and something softer, almost protective.

I pause before answering, feeling the warmth of the spring against my toe as I dip it into the water. The heat seeps into my skin, mirroring the warmth spreading through me, chased by an unexpected shiver of vulnerability. “I do,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods thoughtfully then points to the pallet of blankets nestled in the corner of the cove. “And you sleep down here?” His tone holds no judgment, only curiosity that feels too intimate, too close.

I wrap my arms around myself, the air suddenly feeling cooler against my wet skin. “Sometimes campus is just too loud,” I admit, avoiding his gaze as I look out over the water. “And here... I can just relax.” My words hang in the air, heavy with nights spent seeking peace in the solitude of this hidden place. How can I tell him that my nightmares don’t reach me here? That I can sleep through the night, and I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not?

He grunts as he steps into the heated water. As he walks past me, he whips off his shirt, tossing it to the side.

My eyes are instantly drawn to his back where his muscles ripple. I’m so focused on his back that when he stops and whips off his shorts, I’m momentarily shocked.

Laughing like a lunatic, he tosses them on the rock and dives under the water.

I look at the ceiling then back to him, then up at the ceiling.

He emerges, and I can’t help myself. He’s like a drug, and I’m an addict. I just need one more dose of him before I’ll be able to get through the day.

When he breaks the surface, there’s a challenge in his eyes. “Swim with me.” His voice carries a playful lilt, but beneath it, there’s a hint of something more—an invitation to share in this moment.

I do want to get clean.

Nibbling on my cheek, I use a finger to indicate he needs to turn around. He obliges, and I slowly peel off my sweaty shorts and sports bra, tossing them beside his clothing. The fabric makes a soft sound as it hits the rock. Then, I wade into the water, feeling its cool touch against my heated skin. The moment the water envelops me, it feels as if all my worries begin to dissolve. I sink below the surface, letting the water cradle me momentarily in its embrace.

It feels so amazing, my body instantly melts, and I kick to the surface.

Hands grip my hips, tugging me close. Gasping, I grab his shoulders, blinking water from my eyes. His touch sparks a trail of warmth in my veins.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, his breath a warm tickle close to my lips.

Is it? Is this okay? I feel alright. I don’t feel an ounce of fear at his touch. Instead, I feel like I’m coming home, which is strange, because I’ve never had a home to go to. But Leo? He just feels right whenever he touches me, when he comes near me. He’s just right, and that terrifies me.

I’ve never had anything in my life that didn’t hurt, and I damn well know that Leo, who feels like he’s always belonged in my life, will hurt me when he’s gone.

So is it okay?

For now? Yeah. I nod slowly, and he tugs me closer, our bodies aligning in the water.

“I’m glad you decided to go for a jog this morning,” he whispers against my lips, his words barely a murmur over the gentle lap of water around us. “You don’t have to make it up to me, you know.” His statement feels completely out of place, a stark contrast to the intimacy of our current closeness.

“I know,” I answer, my voice a mix of resolve and vulnerability. The water moves around us, echoing my swirling emotions. “Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

There’s a brief pause, a heartbeat, where everything seems to freeze—the water, the air, time itself. Then, closing the minimal distance between us, he presses his lips against mine. The kiss is gentle at first, exploratory, as if he’s mapping out a promise, a possibility of what could be between us. The warmth from his lips spreads through me, igniting every nerve with scorching need. The kiss deepens, and the world narrows down to just us, adrift in this hidden cove where, for a fleeting instant, I can pretend we are the only people in the world.

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