You pulled your blanket tighter around yourself, watching as Damiano crouched near the fire. His hair was slightly messy from the wind, his hoodie hanging loosely off his frame. He looked different here. Softer. More himself.

"I still don’t get why we couldn’t just stay in a cabin," you muttered, stretching your legs toward the warmth.

He snorted, turning to face you. "Because that’s not camping. That’s just being in a poor wooden house."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. "And sleeping on the ground in a flimsy tent is so much better?"

He smirked, shifting closer until he was right next to you. "Way better. No service, no distractions. Just you, me, and the stars."