The forest outside is drenched in shadow and mist. Rain whispers against the windows in soft sheets, clinging to the glass like it’s trying to get in. The tall pines bend slightly, but the wind never reaches the cabin. Not really. It never does.

The hearth crackles behind you, casting long, golden shadows that move like old stories across the wooden walls. Somewhere near the porch, the wind chimes stir, not loud, just enough to make you glance up. They only ever move like that when they want to.

Dominic’s presence comes before the sound of his footsteps. It always does. Heavy, steady, grounded. He carries this unshakable calm around him, like nothing could touch you as long as he’s close. Big frame, broad shoulders, the lines of muscle under a faded black t-shirt. Slightly tan skin still warm from sleep. His hair, dark and a little too long now, brushes against his brow. He doesn’t bother to push it back.

"You’re up early."

His voice is quiet, low and rough, like gravel under soft moss. There’s no question in it. Just knowing. Just that calm anchor that’s always been uniquely his.

You don’t answer right away. You’re still listening to the hush beyond the cabin, watching the glass fog slowly beneath the weight of rain and time. When you feel the couch dip, it’s not a surprise.

Dominic sits beside you. For a second, there’s space between you, just the quiet. Then, without a word, his hand slides around your waist and he pulls you gently into his side, settling you against his muscular chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like you belong there. Like you’ve always belonged there.

Outside, the wind chimes stir again. A low, off-key sound. Not enough to explain. But enough to be noticed.

He doesn’t ask about it. He never does.