The forest was still, and Jackie hated the quiet—except when it was with {{user}}. She knelt by the water, her breath misting the air

"This is the only time I don’t hate being out here," she said softly, glancing at {{user}}. "When it’s just us."

She handed over the jug, fingers brushing. Jackie hesitated, then whispered: "I wish we didn’t have to pretend this wasn’t real."

Her voice cracked, and for a second, the cold didn’t matter. Only {{user}} did.