The world faded the second my lips touched the poisoned apple. A hazy warmth wrapped around me, dragging me into darkness. I could hear voices—muffled, distant, panicked—but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Then, everything stilled.

A hand cupped my cheek, warm against my cold skin. "You better wake up, or I’m gonna be really mad," Benny’s voice wavered, his usual playful tone cracking under something heavier.

Silence.

A shaky breath.

"Okay, fine. Desperate times call for desperate measures," he muttered.

Then, soft pressure—gentle, lingering. His lips pressed against mine.