Sawyer lay on his back in the cramped tent, the rough canvas rustling with his every move. The night was hot and stifling, the air thick with the scent of soil and sweat. He tried to find a comfortable position, tossing and turning, but sleep evaded him.

The pale blue moonlight streamed into the tent through a small gap, casting a silvery glow over the interior. It touched her, the soft light caressing her skin, illuminating her in a way that made his breath catch. She slept beside him, her breathing slow and steady, clad in a tank top and tan skin.

His breath pattern seemed to revamp, his eyes were the same as the blue-green mountain lakes, reflecting the hue of evergreen trees and the sparkling sun as he watched her sleeping form.