Chapter 5: The Morning After

"What the hell are you doing here?" Julian scrambled backward, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

The silhouette in the doorway didn't move. It was just a delivery driver, looking confusedly at the illuminated cabin.

"Uh, groceries? The agency sent them over. Is everything okay in here?" the delivery guy asked, peering past the blinding light.

"Everything is fine," Leo said, his voice terrifyingly steady. He didn't even glance at Julian. He stepped forward, taking the crate from the man. "Leave it on the porch. We’re busy."

"Right. Sorry about the, uh, interruption," the guy muttered, backing away into the night.

The door slammed shut. The latch clicked. Julian felt the air leave his lungs. He stared at Leo’s back, his face burning with a heat that had nothing to do with the thermostat.

"You were going to kiss me," Leo said, his back still turned. It wasn't a question.

"I was not. I was disoriented. The light—it was a reaction to the sudden brightness."

Leo turned around. He looked exhausted, his hair a chaotic mess, his eyes dark and unreadable. "A reaction. Right. That’s what we’re calling it?"

"It’s what it was, Leo. Don't flatter yourself."

"You weren't pulling away, Jules. In fact, you were doing the opposite."

"I was cold! My body was trying to regulate its temperature."

Leo let out a sharp, cynical laugh. He walked toward the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water. "I didn't realize human biology included aggressive tongue-wrestling as a heat-preservation technique."

"Shut up. Just shut up." Julian paced the small floor, his hands shaking. "It was the cabin. The situation. The, uh, the 'act' we're forced to perform. It’s bleeding into reality, and I hate it."

"You hate it?" Leo leaned against the counter, his eyes tracing Julian’s movements. "Because it didn't feel like hate three minutes ago."

"We are trapped in a mountain death-trap. I’m delirious. That’s all."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself to survive the night, Jules." Leo gestured to the floor. "I’m taking the bed. You want the floor, or are we repeating the 'thermostat' experiment?"

"I’m taking the floor."

"You’ll be a popsicle by 6:00 AM."

"I’d rather freeze than spend another second near you."

"Your funeral."

The night was agonizing. Every time Julian closed his eyes, he felt the phantom pressure of Leo’s lips against his. The silence of the cabin wasn't peaceful; it was loud, heavy with the weight of things left unsaid.

When morning light finally filtered through the windows, Julian woke up stiff, cold, and utterly miserable. He looked up to see Leo already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed and scrolling through his phone.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Leo said without looking up. "You look like garbage."

"I hate you," Julian croaked, sitting up and rubbing his face. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Like a baby. You, on the other hand, spent the entire night thrashing around like you were being exorcised."

"Maybe because I was sleeping on a hardwood floor in a sub-zero climate."

Leo stood up, tossing his phone onto the mattress. "Check the feed. Halloway already leaked that we’re 'reconnecting in nature.' We have fifty million impressions on that post from last night."

"Fifty million?" Julian groaned, burying his head in his hands. "My life is over."

"Your life is just starting. Now, get your jacket. We have to look like a happy, lovesick couple for the drive back."

"I can't. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck."

"Think of the paycheck, Jules. One more hour of acting. That’s all it takes."

They packed in silence, the air thick enough to choke on. The tension from the kiss hung between them, a jagged wire neither dared to touch. As they stepped out onto the porch, the crisp mountain air hit Julian’s face, momentarily clearing his head.

"Remember," Leo whispered, draping an arm around Julian’s shoulders. His touch was firm, professional, and entirely infuriating. "Look like you’re actually happy to be seen with me."

"I’m trying, you prick."

"Try harder. You’re scowling."

"I’m not scowling, I’m—"

Julian stopped.

Parked at the end of the gravel driveway were three black SUVs, their doors flung open. Cameras—dozens of them—were already pointed their way, the shutters clicking like machine-gun fire.

"They found us," Julian whispered, his skin going pale.

"Smile," Leo murmured, his voice dropping into that smooth, practiced tone. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Julian’s temple. "Show them the love, Jules."

"I’m going to kill you later," Julian hissed, leaning into the contact, his fake smile fixed perfectly on his face.

"I’d expect nothing less."

They walked toward the cars, Leo’s arm never leaving Julian’s waist. The questions came like a barrage.

"Julian! Is it true you’re moving in with him?"

"Leo, are you two engaged?"

Julian didn't answer; he just laughed softly, clutching Leo’s jacket as if he couldn't bear to let go. Leo just shot the cameras a wink, pulling Julian closer.

As they ducked into their car and slammed the doors, Julian let out a ragged breath. "That was hell."

Leo pulled his phone out, tapping a few buttons. His face went uncharacteristically still.

"What?" Julian asked, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

Leo turned the screen toward him. It was a gossip site—the biggest one in the industry. The headline was plastered in bold, neon letters: THE CABIN CONFESSION: JULIAN VANE AND LEO THORNE ALREADY LIVING TOGETHER?

Below it was a photo, taken from a long-lens camera hidden in the trees. It showed Julian, his hand tangled in Leo’s hair, their faces inches apart in the moonlight just before the cabin lights had flickered on.

"They saw," Julian whispered, the blood draining from his face. "They saw everything."