Through The Ashes

14

When Jorn wakes up, she groans lightly, her stomach rumbling with hunger. The events of the previous day—patrolling, the unexpected horde of the Rot, taking the life of someone who was quickly losing their humanity—have left her both physically and mentally depleted.

The morning light shines through the tent, casting a soft glow on Mara, who is still sleeping peacefully beside her.

Jorn watches Mara's soft, steady breathing, her chest rising and falling with a calm rhythm that contrasts with the chaotic emotions she feels constantly. The warm space they share feels fragile like it could be taken from her at any moment.

Jorn's mind drifts back to the night before, when she was drawn into this tent by Mara. She remembers the way Mara had looked at her—patient, understanding like she knew exactly how to guide herself past the walls Jorn had built.

It was like being lured by a siren's call, drawn in without fully knowing how or why, but knowing she didn't want to resist.

She sighed softly, not wanting to disturb the stillness but knowing they couldn't linger in this blanketed warmth much longer. Mara's hand twitched in her sleep, brushing against Jorn's arm, and the subtle touch sent a warmth through her body that had nothing to do with the sleeping bag they shared.

Jorn's thoughts flickered back to the moments when their bodies had been so close, the tension thick between them, but nothing crossing the line of what Jorn wasn't ready for.

Yet, there was a part of her that wondered—if she had reached out, if she had let herself lean into that pull—what would have happened? What would Mara have done? She was becoming unguarded. She was wanting, and yet unsure of what she truly wanted.

She thinks about leaving, slipping away, and hiding in her own tent, but her body doesn't allow her to move. Her limbs feel heavy, not just from exhaustion but from the realization of what the night had meant, and what it could mean if she stayed.

The thought of retreating back into the safe isolation she'd lived in for so long seemed easier, but also lonelier.

Jorn's eyes moved to Mara again, who was still resting beside her, her face serene in the morning light. The softness in her features, the way her dark hair fell messily over her cheek, the dark freckles sparse against her golden skin—it all made Jorn's chest tighten in a way that was overwhelming.

Jorn's thoughts spun between the desire to protect herself and the deep ache of wanting to stay in this fleeting moment of closeness.

Her hand twitched slightly, unconsciously moving closer to Mara's, as if testing the distance between them. Her mind screamed at her to get up, to leave before the feelings grew too real, but her heart—something deeper in her—urged her to stay.

Mara stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open, and Jorn's breath hitched as Mara's gaze found hers. "Morning," Mara whispered, her voice gentle, yet tinged with a warmth that made Jorn's pulse quicken.

"Morning," Jorn echoed, her voice barely audible.

She could still leave—could slip away with some excuse about needing to get food or check on the camp. But as Mara's hand lightly brushed against hers, a jolt of desire traveled through her, rooting her in place. The decision to stay or leave loomed in the space between them, but the moment was tender, waiting for her to choose.

For once, Jorn didn't know if she wanted to run.

Mara was the first to speak, her voice low, soft, as though she didn't want to disturb the delicate connection between them. "You stayed," she said, her gaze still gentle but searching. "I didn't think you would."