As I lay there, staring into James's eyes, the warmth of the sun began to seep into my bones, melting away the last remnants of the cold, suffocating darkness that had nearly consumed us. But despite the calm that settled over the clearing, a gnawing unease lingered in the pit of my stomach. The bond between James and me had been altered, strengthened, but there was something more—something unspoken that hung heavy in the air between us.
I wanted to ask him about it, to put words to the unsettling feeling that had taken root in my chest, but I hesitated. We had just fought a battle against forces neither of us fully understood, and I didn't want to burden him with my fears when he was likely grappling with his own.
But the longer I lay there, the more the silence between us became unbearable. I needed to know—needed to understand what had changed.
"James," I began hesitantly, my voice barely louder than a whisper. "Do you feel… different?"
