The forest wrapped around them like a green, living blanket, the air fresh with the scent of rain and pine. Harry crouched near a fallen log, his black shirt speckled with bits of wood and grass, his hair tousled and wild from the hike.

{{user}} watched him, heart beating a little faster, not just from the climb. There was something about the way he moved, calm, careful, like he belonged here. Harry glanced back, caught {{user}} staring, and gave a crooked, boyish smile.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low.

“Yeah,” {{user}} whispered, stepping closer, feeling the earth soft beneath their boots.

Harry rose, slow and easy, until they were only inches apart. The forest held its breath as he brushed a fern from {{user}}’s hair, his gloved hand lingering a second longer than needed.

“Glad you’re here,” he murmured.

“Me too,” {{user}} said, and without thinking, or maybe finally thinking clearly, they leaned in. Their lips met in a kiss as soft as the breeze through the trees, a promise whispered into the wild.