Page 11

Chapter 8

Eros

W ater lapped against Eros’s skin as he leaned back against the tub. His muscles ached, a dull soreness settling deep in his shoulders. That was a relief—especially considering how easily he could have been killed. Mortality had a way of making everything feel more fragile and more uncertain. The bear attack had been a brutal reminder of that.

A slow exhale left him as he sank deeper into the bath, letting the heat work through the tension in his body. His thoughts drifted back to earlier—before the bear, before everything had spiraled. Psyche had been acting…off. The way she spoke to him, the way her expression shifted—like there was something she wasn’t saying. The feeling had been elusive then, just out of reach, but now, as he replayed the moment in his mind, it nagged at him.

And then, before he could figure it out, the bear had come crashing through the trees, and everything had gone to hell. He had blacked out before he could do anything. If Psyche hadn’t been there?—

His jaw tightened. He stretched, rolling his shoulders, testing for anything beyond the lingering soreness. It was almost absurd how close he had come to serious injury—or worse. He had spent centuries unbothered by pain, by the threat of death. But now? Now, every scrape and bruise reminded him that he was vulnerable in a way he hadn’t ever been.

Water swirled around him as he ran a hand through his damp hair, lost in thought. Something about all of this didn’t sit right. Psyche’s behavior. The attack. His own helplessness.

The steam barely rose from the water, and Eros sighed, realizing it was time to get out. He reached for a towel and noticed he hadn’t brought any clothes into the bathroom, so he wrapped the towel around his waist and went to grab his bag. But he froze when he heard Psyche’s voice.

“I made lunch,” she called out.

Brown-green eyes were wide and fixed on him for a moment before he spoke, “Just getting clothes,” he said and ducked back into the bathroom with a small laugh, amused by her reaction.

As he rifled through his bag for something to wear, he couldn’t help but feel pleased. Psyche was finally reacting to him—really reacting. There was no mistaking it, and it made something warm stir inside him. He enjoyed seeing her vulnerable, even if she didn’t quite understand it herself.

Moments later he emerged, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and sat at the table. “That smells good.”

She placed a bowl in front of him with a slight smile. “It’s chicken noodle,” she said.

“I’m not sick,” he quipped with a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, instead sitting across from him as they dug into their meals. The tension in the room wasn’t lost on Eros. An awkwardness lingered in the air, something that hadn’t been there before today. He decided to wait, letting her take the lead when she was ready to talk about what was bothering her.

But after a few quiet moments, he broke the silence. “Did you tell your boss that you left the site?”

She nodded but kept her gaze on her food. “I emailed him. Told him I wasn’t feeling well.” She paused, then added, “I didn’t give all the details. Didn’t want to deal with explaining everything.”

Eros nodded, understanding. He wasn’t sure what was up with her, but he could sense something heavy lingering beneath the surface. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and he didn’t want to push.

“You’re feeling better?” she asked after a moment, her voice quiet.

“Yes, the bath helped. I hardly feel anything now.”

“Oh, good,” she said, but her eyes seemed to linger on him. “So, I guess you’re still able to heal even if you don’t have all your powers anymore?”

“No,” he said simply. “I lost my powers, so that’s not possible anymore.”

Psyche bit her lip, her face paling as her eyes filled with tears. Without another word, tears spilled down her cheeks, and the sight broke something inside him. He stood up, moving to her side without hesitation.

He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, his hands steady and soothing. “Why are you crying, Psyche?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I feel so confused right now.”

He nodded, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. They sat down, but before he could say anything, she climbed into his lap, wrapping her arms around him. Eros instinctively held her close, his hands running gently along her back as he tried to calm her.

“It was really scary earlier,” she said after a moment, her voice muffled against his shirt. The words seemed to unlock something in her, and the tears came harder, her whole body shaking as she cried. “But even before that…I was feeling weird.”

“I noticed,” he said quietly.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, surprised eyes. “You did?”

“Yes, Psyche. It’s pretty easy to see when you’re uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Right,” she murmured, her gaze falling as she rested her head against his shoulder again.

She took a deep breath, sitting back slightly but still within the circle of his arms. “The chest pain I was feeling earlier,” she began hesitantly, “it started when I saw you and Marge talking earlier.”

He tilted his head. “Okay.”

She bit her lip and continued, “Then it happened again when I saw Marge later. I went to the doctor, who, of course, didn’t find anything. Then I talked to a friend, and she said…” Psyche hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “She said I’m feeling jealous.”

Eros barked out a laugh, catching her completely off guard. Her eyes narrowed, and she glared at him. “Don’t laugh at me!” she snapped, her voice sharp and indignant.

“I’m not making fun of you, Psyche,” he said, grinning. “It’s just…it’s actually cute.”

“Cute?” she echoed, her nose scrunched.

“Yes, cute,” he said with a teasing smile. “I’ve been attracted to you since the beginning, but none of my usual moves worked on you. I thought maybe I was losing my touch.”

Her mouth dropped open, surprise flickering across her face. “You were?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “But lately, you’ve been reacting to me. And, I’ll admit, I’m glad I still have some power over you.”

“Power? Over me? Please.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

He smirked and leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Well, I didn’t say it was much power.”

Her lips twitched, and despite herself, she let out a small laugh. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he gestured to her on his lap, flashing her a triumphant grin.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she retorted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he shot back.

“Wait,” she said, reaching for her phone on the coffee table. She tapped the screen a few times and then held it up to show him. “The list of what a boyfriend is,” she explained, a playful glint in her eyes. “You check most of the boxes, so I guess you are one.”

“Am I now?” he quipped, raising a brow.

“Yes,” she replied simply, leaning in and kissing him.

Eros froze for a moment, then gently broke the kiss. “Ah, Psyche, you can’t kiss me like that.”

“Why?” she asked, her brow furrowing with worry. “Do you still?—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” he reassured her quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just that I really want you, and if you’re still not ready to have sex, we shouldn’t be kissing like this.”

“Oh,” she said, pulling back slightly, her cheeks pink. “Okay.”

Eros felt a mix of relief and frustration settle over him, but before he could fully adjust to the boundary, she leaned in again, kissing him softly but with unmistakable intent.

“I’m ready,” she murmured against his lips.

He pulled back slightly, his breath catching. “You’re sure?”

“Very sure,” she said, her voice steady, and her eyes locked on his.

Eros’s heart stuttered at her words. “Psyche, this isn’t something you have to rush into. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I’m not rushing, and I don’t feel pressured. I trust you, and I want this.”

He studied her face, searching for any trace of hesitation. “You’re absolutely certain?”

“Yes, I like sex,” she said, and then immediately launched into a detailed list. “It releases endorphins, lowers blood pressure, boosts the immune system, improves sleep, reduces stress?—”

“Jeez,” Eros interrupted with a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “And here, I thought it’s because you’re lusting after me.”

“Oh, and that too,” she said, her lips brushing against his.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He closed the gap, kissing her deeply, his hands slipping to her waist to pull her closer. Psyche melted against him, as her body responded to his touch.

He carried her and set her down beside the bed, and then pulled her shirt over her head. Her round and magnificent breasts filled his hands, and he leaned down to kiss between them. Psyche didn’t say anything, but he felt her eyes on him, following his every move.

Kneeling before her, he tugged at her shorts and then her panties and looked at her, her rounded hips, soft belly, and dimpled thighs. He took in a breath and kissed a dimple before sucking it between his teeth. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and when he pressed a kiss to the apex of her thighs, they tightened just a little.

“Have you ever been with someone like me?” she asked when he looked up at her. She stood with complete confidence, her body exposed and without a hint of self-consciousness.

It wasn’t something he was expecting, yet another way she surprised him.

“What do you mean?”

She held his gaze as he stood up. “Someone with autism, and who is chubby?”

He smiled. “No, this would be the first time. And yes, desire comes in all forms, and if I only had one type, that would be hypocritical, right?”

She stared back at him, “Right.”

He slid his hands up her pale, porcelain-like skin, and goosebumps followed. Seeing her reacting to him bumped up his arousal even more. “You look good, Psyche. Like I said before, I like your body,” he said, squeezing her hips and then palming the globes of her ass.

“You did,” she said, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “Oh, were you flirting with me then?”

He laughed and kissed her. “I tried but obviously failed miserably.”

She giggled and pulled at his shirt, and he helped her take it off. Soft fingers lightly grazed his chest, lingering on a scar, following the line in his abs. Her hand pushed against him, and he sat on the edge of the bed.

She slowly traced her finger along the sharp lines of his face, her touch featherlight and deliberate. “You’re very pretty,” she murmured, studying him with a teasing glint in her eyes.

“I’m a guy, Psyche,” he scoffed.

She tilted her head like she was deep in thought. “Then you’re very handsome.” She paused, then smirked. “No, let’s make it neutral—you’re very hot.”

He chuckled, amused by her playful attempt to be diplomatic. But as his laughter faded and his gaze drifted forward, he suddenly went still. Her breasts were right there, tantalizingly close, and all thoughts momentarily fled from his mind.

He leaned forward and licked one breast while cupping the other. They were big but fit in his palms. He knew they were sensitive when her breath grew loud when he licked the buds, grazed his teeth on the undersides, and sucked them between his teeth. Her breathtaking body curved gracefully, a vision of pure perfection.

He could feel her tugging at his pants. “Eros,” she giggled. “Take off your pants.”

He groaned but stopped sucking her tits to help her take off his jeans. He barely kicked them off and grabbed her hips. “Come here.”

She let out a startled shriek but quickly straddled his legs. He studied her, taking in the way her body had softened, the tension from earlier now absent. The crease in her brow was gone, replaced by something looser, more at ease. Her breathing was slow and steady, her lips slightly parted as if caught in the remnants of a sigh.

Still, it wasn’t enough to assume—he wanted to be sure. He wanted her to feel as good as he did.

His fingers brushed her arms, light and deliberate. “What do you like?” he asked, wanting to hear it from her, to know exactly what made her feel good.

She stretched slightly. “What you did earlier was nice.”

Eros arched a brow, smirking. “Oh, before you interrupted me?”

She grinned. “Yeah, well…I wanted to get to the good part.”

His smirk deepened. “That wasn’t good?” He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

She bit her lip. “Hmm…it was okay.”

“Okay?” His voice held mock offense.

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unguarded, and he realized just how much he liked this side of her—relaxed, playful, completely in the moment. His fingers traced patterns on her skin, savoring the way she responded to his touch. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

His gaze roamed over her, taking in the glow on her skin, the ease in her posture. “Like you’re just…here. Not overthinking. Just feeling.”

She held his stare for a beat before whispering, “I like feeling.”

“So, what will feel good?” he asked, his voice lower now, waiting.

She held his gaze, a slow smile forming. “Hmm,” she murmured and grasped his hand, placing it between her legs. “This will.”

For the first time, he felt the thrill of knowing she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The quiet longing in her eyes, the way she leaned into his touch—all of it sent a surge of exhilaration through him. “You’re really wet.”

“Mm-hmm,” she sighed as he moved his fingers in her.

“You know what that means, right?”

“Yes, that I want you, and I’m really turned on.”

Fuck, if hearing her say those words didn’t make him even harder.

“But I have to be ready for you.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” she said, wrapping her soft hand around his cock. “You’re big, so I have to be ready.”

She wasn’t even trying to be seductive or talk dirty, yet it only made him want her more.

“Fuck, Psyche,” he said, pushing her onto her knees. “You’re ready enough, and if you’re not, we’ll go slow. I just need to be inside you. Right now.”

“Okay,” she balanced a hand on his shoulder, the other one guiding him inside her, and then she slowly slid down inch by inch.

He held his breath, watching his cock disappear into her, feeling her warmth tight around him. He wanted her to go faster, to fuck her hard, to feel her move. But he let her take her time until he was as deep as he could be.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“More than okay,” he said and looked into her hazel eyes. “Why?”

“It’s just you’re so tense,” she squeezed his shoulders. “Does it not feel good?”

“It feels so good that I don’t know if I want to fuck you hard or just stay like this so that I don’t come too soon.”

“Oh,” she bit her lip but then moved and adjusted her angle so he was even deeper inside her.

He gripped her hips. “Psyche,” he groaned.

“But isn’t that the point? To come?” she whispered in his ear.

“That’s it,” he said, and there was no going back. He began moving her and meeting each downward slide. He was lost in the sensations, her pussy gripping him, her nipple against his tongue, her soft ass in his hands.

“Touch your clit, Psyche. Help me get you off. I want to feel you orgasm around my cock.”

And damn, if words and guidance were all it took, she responded beautifully, following his lead with perfect attention. Soon enough, he heard soft moans from her, and she arched into him, her body shuddering against him. It was all over, and he was groaning, his orgasm thundering through him, coming apart and joining her. He buried his face into her neck, breathing her in, licking and sucking her skin.

He held her close until their skin cooled and they caught their breath, and then he lay back on the bed, bringing her with him.

“Psyche?” he stroked his hand down her back.

“Mmm,” was all he heard.

“Okay, you’re still awake.”

“More than that, more than alive.”

“Whoa, if that’s not a confidence booster then I don’t know what is.”

Her laugh made him grin, and he flipped her on her back. “Hi.”

She smiled and then kissed him. “Hey.”

He kissed her again, and a flood of emotions surged through him—deep, unspoken feelings that wrapped around him like a tide, pulling him farther into her orbit.

“Again?” she asked, pushing her hair back away from her face.

“Yes, this is the longest I’ve gone without sex. And I’m going to take it out on you,” he wriggled his eyebrows at her.

She giggled, “Poor Eros.”

“What did you say earlier? Sex lowers blood pressure, reduces stress?” he said against her neck. Her soft moan made him smile. “I’m still so stressed out from earlier, so I need your help.”

“Mmm, okay, can’t say no to that,” she said and kissed him.

Eros found himself settling into a rhythm with Psyche. She spent her days at the dig site, immersed in her work, while he kept himself occupied nearby, always aware of when she’d return. Their evenings, however, were something else. They’d talk, eat, and inevitably end up tangled in each other, the quiet of the wilderness around them amplifying every laugh, every touch.

It wasn’t like anything he’d experienced before. With Psyche, everything felt…simple. She didn’t play games, didn’t hold back when she wanted something, and that included him. Eros enjoyed the balance of it—the trust she showed in him and the way she let herself go when they were having sex. It was different, in a way that intrigued him, a connection that didn’t need much overthinking. Whatever this was between them, it worked for now, and he found he didn’t mind the change of pace.

Later that month, Eros was walking to Psyche’s cabin with a cooler in hand when he spotted someone standing in front of the door, staring at their phone. As he got closer, he recognized Bob, the dig site manager. Eros’s shoulders tensed, his body going rigid. He didn’t like seeing Bob here—something about his presence set him on edge.

“Hi,” Bob greeted, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“What are you doing here?” he asked curtly.

Bob blinked but answered easily, “Oh, I was just taking a walk and getting some air before Amber’s birthday party. You and Psyche will be going, right?”

“I’ll have to check with her.” He didn’t offer more.

“Okay then,” Bob said, shifting awkwardly. “Hopefully we’ll see you two there.”

He watched Bob walk off, not moving until the man had rounded the corner and disappeared from view. As much as he wanted to brush the encounter off, he found himself mulling over Bob’s question. Psyche hadn’t mentioned the party. If she didn’t want to go, fine, but he realized she hadn’t been socializing much with her coworkers at all lately. Maybe she’d enjoy the change of pace—or maybe she wouldn’t, but he figured it was worth checking in with her.

Satisfied the area was clear, Eros stepped into the cabin and found Psyche on the couch, a book balanced in her lap.

She glanced up at him, her brow lifting. “Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, I went fishing,” he said, holding up the cooler with a smug grin.

Her eyes lit up as she closed her book and stood. “Oh wow! What’d you catch? Is there a lot?”

“Of course, there’s a lot,” he bragged, setting the cooler down and opening it to reveal the contents. “It’s trout.”

Psyche peered into the cooler and whistled. “Wow, that’s gonna be real yummy.”

“Do you know how to clean and cook fish?”

Her nose wrinkled immediately, and she stepped back. “Oh no, I can’t touch raw fish! Yuck, yuck, yuck!” She shuddered and started drumming her fingers against the edge of the cooler, as if just looking at it was enough to set her off.

Eros chuckled, shaking his head. “Okay, you don’t have to do it. We can grill it out back.”

“Okay,” she said quickly, relief clear in her voice as she hovered near him while he began cleaning and prepping the fish for the grill. She watched him work, her curiosity warring with her disgust. “I just…I can’t stand the way the raw fish feels,” she admitted, shivering again at the thought.

He smirked. “You’re watching me do it, though. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It’s different,” she said, shrugging and stepping back just slightly. “I’m not the one touching it.”

“So, no sushi for you?”

“Ick, no.”

He chuckled again as he worked, and after a moment, she glanced at the counter. “Oh, we can have a salad with it!” she declared, heading over to grab the ingredients.

“Salad works,” he agreed, focusing on his task as she began chopping vegetables. Every so often, she glanced his way, her nose wrinkling when he dealt with something particularly slimy, but she didn’t say anything else about it.

“I saw Bob earlier,” he glanced over at her as she chopped lettuce for the salad. “He mentioned there’s a birthday party tonight.”

“Oh, right. Amber’s,” Psyche said, not looking up from her task.

“Are you planning to go?”

“Not really,” she said, setting the knife down. “It’ll probably be loud. Plus, I already gave her a present earlier.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding. “That’s nice of you. She’s not expecting you to go?”

“No, Amber’s cool. She knows I’m not really into that kind of thing,” Psyche said, picking up the cutting board and sliding the lettuce into a bowl. “We usually have a coffee break together during work, though.”

“That’s good,” he said, leaning against the counter. “It’s nice you have someone like that at the site.”

“Yeah, she’s easy to talk to. She’s been really understanding about…everything.” She glanced at him briefly, her expression softening before she turned back to the bowl to mix the salad.

He watched her, noting the ease with which she spoke about Amber. It was one of those moments where she seemed relaxed, unguarded, and it made him wonder how long it had taken her to trust someone like that. Psyche didn’t open up easily, and the fact that she had a friend like Amber made him feel oddly relieved.

“Well, guess it’s just us tonight, then.”

“Yeah,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think I prefer that anyway.”

He smirked, grabbing the prepared fish. “Can’t say I mind it either.”

They went outside to set up the bonfire, and when the fire crackled, he adjusted the grill over the flames. Psyche watched him from her seat, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“So,” she began, “why did you lose your powers?”

Eros sighed, flipping a piece of fish onto the grill. “The Council of Olympians stripped me of them as punishment for what happened with Winged.”

Psyche tilted her head. “The matchmaking app you created?”

“Yeah.” He gave a wry smile. “They wanted to strip me of all my powers and make me mortal. Hephaestus stepped in and suggested something less permanent.”

“What did he suggest?” she asked, leaning forward.

“That I could earn my powers back—if I learned empathy and stopped being so reckless. You know, fix myself. ” He laughed bitterly. “This is the way I am. But if they’d made me mortal, it would’ve been worse.”

“Why?”

He paused, turning the fish as the edges sizzled. “Because of my wings. I’m part geryon. Without my powers, I wouldn’t be able to retract them. I’d have to live in Vale Crossing.”

“Vale Crossing?”

“It’s a place where monsters who can’t shift or glamor live,” he explained, his voice quieter now. “A hidden place. It’s…not a place I can go back to now.”

He hesitated, then glanced at her. “My father was the leader of the geryons. His name was Cyncus, and he fell in love with Aphrodite, but he was…” Eros frowned, the words catching in his throat. “Abusive. After I was born, he put a blood spell on me, trapping me in Vale Crossing. I couldn’t leave.”

Psyche’s breath hitched. “That’s awful. How did you get out?”

“By the time I was ten, Zeus arranged for Aphrodite to marry Hephaestus. Hephaestus noticed the bruises on her. He helped her figure out how to take me away.”

“Hephaestus helped you?”

He took a deep breath, staring into the fire as the weight of his words hung in the air.

“Hephaestus made a magical pyxis,” he said quietly. “It was a container that held Cyncus’s magic, but it also took the magic of everyone in his bloodline. That included me. So, until I could eat the golden apple of immortality, we were stuck in Thessaly, hiding out from my father’s reach. Hephaestus had a way of protecting us…but it was far from freedom.”

“I can’t even imagine,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.

Eros gave a slight nod. “It wasn’t easy. But it kept my mother safe. And Hephaestus, he…he made it bearable. I wouldn’t have made it through without him.”

Psyche’s voice was gentle when she asked, “Did your father…did he hit you too?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “Only when I tried to protect my mother,” he said, the words coming out with a quiet edge. “He would punish me when I stood up to him. But…Hephaestus became part of our lives, and that made it better. He taught me a lot, showed me there was more to life than my father’s cruelty. That’s probably the one good thing Zeus did. Hephaestus became part of our lives…he kept us safe.”

Psyche was quiet for a moment, processing his words. “Wow, that must have been really rough.”

“It was,” he agreed, his gaze shifting to the sky above them. “But we made it through. And now…now I’m just trying to figure out what comes next. Without my powers, things are different. But it’s still better than being stuck in Vale Crossing forever.”

“So, you can’t go to Vale Crossing because of your relatives?”

He nodded, his expression hardening slightly. “Yeah. Who knows what they’d do? If I had my powers, at least I could fight them off.

“It’s messed up,” he added, his voice low. “Maybe that’s why I’m the way I am.”

“Sure, you’re all those things. But I’ve seen a different side of you. The way you are with me—patient, sweet, and thoughtful. It’s in you, Eros. You just have to show everyone else that side of you.”

He paused, studying her face. The warmth in her eyes, the trust she had in him—he hadn’t known he had it in him to make someone believe in him like that.

“What?” she asked, smiling.

A strange pressure tightened in his chest, something he couldn’t quite name. He stood and pulled her into his arms, feeling the softness of her body against his. In the glow of the firelight, her eyes took on a rich hazel hue, deep and warm. Without a word, he kissed her gently, a slow, lingering kiss that held all the things he hadn’t yet said.

When they pulled away, Eros smiled and answered her question. “Nothing. I just really like kissing you.”

She smiled, her fingers curling into his shirt. “I like it too.”

He pressed a quick kiss on her lips and then turned to the grill. “I think this is ready.”

“It does smell good.”

They sat down to dinner, and as they ate, Psyche sang his praises, telling him how good the meal was and how much she appreciated the effort. It was a simple moment, but it felt nice to him. After all, he hadn’t been expecting this kind of connection to be so…comfortable.

He looked over at her, taking a sip of his drink before asking, “So, what are your coping mechanisms? How do you handle everything?”

Psyche leaned back in her chair, considering the question for a moment. “I have a few,” she said slowly. “First, I’m very mindful of my triggers. I pay close attention to how I’m feeling in different situations.”

“That sounds like something you’ve learned to do over time,” he remarked, watching her closely.

“Yeah, definitely,” she replied. “I’ve developed three main methods. The first one is deep breathing. I’ll just take a few slow breaths, which helps me refocus and calm down. The second is grounding techniques, like focusing on the physical sensations around me—touching something cold or noticing what I see around me.”

“And the third?” he asked, curious to hear more.

“The third is journaling,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Writing things down, putting my thoughts on paper, helps me organize them. It makes it easier to separate emotions from facts and gain some perspective.”

He nodded, impressed by how thought-out her coping mechanisms were. “Seems like you’ve really figured out how to handle things.”

“I’ve had to,” she said with a small, self-deprecating smile. “It’s really about being aware of triggers and having ways of dealing with them before they get too overwhelming. You could probably use some of them, too.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

It was dark by then, and Psyche looked up, gasping softly. “Wow…” she murmured. “Look at that.”

He followed her gaze and saw the northern lights painting the sky in sweeping waves of green, purple, and blue. The colors rippled across the night, shimmering like a living thing.

“It’s so pretty,” she said, her voice soft, almost reverent.

He studied the lights for a moment, but his attention quickly shifted back to her, his gaze softening. “Yeah, almost too beautiful to look at,” he said. He had always appreciated the natural world, but there was something about sharing it with her that made the moment feel even more special.

She turned to him with a smile, her eyes still reflecting the colors of the aurora. “You’re right. It’s kind of magical.”

He didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he stood and walked over to where she was sitting, offering his hand. “Come on. Let’s get a better view.”

She took his hand, standing up and following him as he led her toward the edge of the cabin’s porch. They stood there in silence for a while, just watching the lights dance across the sky.

“Do you ever just…stop and think about how much you’ve experienced?” Psyche asked after a while.

He glanced at her, noticing the wistful tone in her voice. “All the time. But it’s hard to appreciate the good stuff when you’re always looking ahead to the next thing. I’ve learned that it’s better to just be in the moment, like this.”

She nodded, looking up at the lights again. “Yeah, I think I’ve been getting better at that. It’s hard when my mind races. But sometimes, it’s nice to just be still.”

“It is,” he agreed softly.

They stood side by side, watching the colors flicker across the sky, both lost in their own thoughts but feeling a quiet connection in the silence. The night seemed to stretch on, the lights above them painting the world in hues of green and purple. They didn’t need to say anything. The beauty of the night, the calm between them, was enough.