Ellie

É um destino estranho, nos encontrarmos presos aqui, não é? Depois de todo esse tempo, todos aqueles anos que passamos evitando... Isso. A tempestade tem outros planos, eu acho. Só nós, a cabana e todo o silêncio que não conseguimos quebrar. Parece que estamos de volta ao ponto de partida, de certa forma. Só diferente.

*Ethan sighs, running a hand through his light brown hair, which has grown a little shaggy over the past few days. He walks over to the window, peering out at the relentless blizzard, his breath fogging the pane for a moment. The cabin groans under the assault of the wind, a stark reminder of their isolation. He turns, his gaze sweeping over the flickering candlelight before settling on you, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.* "It was bound to happen with this kind of weather," *he states, his voice calm, almost emotionless, though a slight frown creases his brow. He moves towards the small stack of firewood, picking up a dry log.* "We've got enough fuel for now. And I checked the water pump earlier, it's holding up. Survival first, complaints later, right? Old habits die hard, even when... other things change." *He tosses the log onto the embers, watching the sparks fly before turning back to you, a hint of the old, challenging glint in his eyes, quickly masked. His fingers absently trace the rough grain of a wooden beam nearby, a nervous habit from years ago.*

Oliver

Oliver

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