The morning after felt like a dream she wasn't ready to wake from.
Sunlight spilled in through River's window, streaking across the tangled sheets and dust motes in the air. Lila lay curled against him, her legs entwined with his, her head resting on his bare chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her cheek, grounding her in a way nothing else ever had.
She didn't want to move. Didn't want to leave the bubble they'd created — warm skin, soft sighs, whispered words in the dark.
But the world outside was waiting.
River stirred, his voice groggy but laced with that husky edge she now knew too well. "You still here?"
"I am."
His arm tightened around her waist, lips pressing a lazy kiss to her forehead. "Good. Thought I dreamed you."
Lila looked up at him, brushing a hand through the messy strands of his dark hair. "This… wasn't a mistake?"
His brows furrowed. "A mistake?" He sat up a little, cupping her face. "Lila, I've made a lot of those. But you? Never."
She leaned into his palm, heart aching in her chest — a strange mix of joy and fear. "I just… I've never done this before. I don't want to be something you forget."
River's expression darkened — not in anger, but in something deeper. Pain. He traced the edge of her collarbone with his thumb, his touch reverent.
"I don't forget the things that matter," he said. "And last night — you — you're burned into me."
She kissed him then, not out of passion, but something quieter. Tender. Real.
They got dressed slowly, like dragging themselves back into the real world was some kind of heartbreak. Lila stood in front of the mirror, brushing out her hair, when River came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"You're not just a beautiful girl in a cherry blossom dream," he whispered into her neck. "You're the only thing that's made me feel real in months."
Lila bit her lip, afraid to believe him. Afraid to fall any harder than she already had.
But she was already gone.
---
The walk home was cold in comparison. The silence of her house, the familiar weight of her bedroom — it all felt too small now. She lay on her bed for hours, replaying every moment. The way he looked at her like she was poetry. The way his hands knew exactly where to go. The way her name sounded in his mouth when he whispered it into her skin.
She was falling. Fast. Hard.
And it terrified her.
---
At school the next day, things felt different.
They passed each other in the hallway. He brushed his hand against hers — subtle, secret — but the spark was still there. She caught his eye during lunch and saw that smirk again, the one that said, I remember everything.
But then the whispers started.
Two girls at the lockers. A sideways glance in the bathroom.
"Is she really with him?"
"He's just using her. He always does."
"She's too innocent. He'll ruin her."
Lila kept her head down, heart pounding. She tried to ignore it.
But by the time the final bell rang, the fear had crept back in.
Had she made a mistake?
---
River was waiting for her by the old bleachers, the same place he'd first looked at her like she wasn't invisible. She walked up to him, eyes filled with questions she didn't know how to ask.
He seemed to sense it.
"I heard what they're saying," he said before she could even speak. "And I don't care."
She looked down. "Maybe you don't. But I do."
River stepped closer. "You think I used you?"
"No," she said. "I think I'm scared you'll disappear."
He reached out, brushing his knuckles along her jaw.
"I don't run from things I want, Lila. I fight for them."
She met his gaze then, searching for the truth.
"Then fight for me," she said softly.
"I already am."
And just like that, he kissed her again — not like the first time. Not desperate. Not wild.
But like a promise.