the humidity of the louisiana afternoon clung to the screen door, heavy with the scent of damp earth and crushed jasmine. inside the cabin, the only sound was the rhythmic scrape of {{user}}'s knife against a dried root. she didn't need to look up to know who was stepping onto her porch; the floorboards groaned under a familiar weight, a deliberate, heavy tread that always stopped just short of the threshold.

"the door's open, jackson," she said, her voice low and steady.

the screen creaked as he pulled it back, the tall, broad silhouette of the crescent alpha filling the small room. he looked more tired than usual, mud staining the hems of his jeans and his dark hair windblown from the trek through the bayou. he didn't head for the chairs. instead, he leaned his weight against the heavy wooden table where she worked, his hazel eyes tracking the movement of her hands.

"hurting again?" she asked, finally glancing up. she let her gaze linger on the sharp line of his jaw and the way his flannel shirt strained against his shoulders.

jackson shook his head, a small, weary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth through his beard. "not exactly. just had a feeling it was quieter out here than it was at the camp. the elders are arguing about the unification again. everyone has an opinion on what i should be doing with my life."

{{user}} set the knife down, wiping her hands on her apron. she moved toward the stove where a kettle was beginning to hiss, her movements soft and deliberate. "and i suppose you think i don't have an opinion?"

jackson reached out, his hand hovering near hers for a fraction of a second before he pulled back to rub the back of his neck. "you’re the only one who doesn't look at me like a chess piece, {{user}}. out here, i’m just a man who gets lost in the woods sometimes."

"you don't get lost," she countered, turning to face him. she could feel the heat radiating off him, the restless energy of the wolf beneath his skin. "you just find reasons to stay."

the air between them grew thick, charged with the kind of tension that felt like the moment before a summer storm breaks. jackson stepped closer, his boots scuffing the floor. he was close enough now that she could smell the pine and rain on his jacket, a sharp contrast to the warm, herbal scent of her kitchen. he reached out again, this time letting his fingers brush against the crook of her elbow, his touch lingering on the soft curve of her arm.

"maybe i do," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, rough and honest. "is that such a bad thing?"

{{user}} held his gaze, her heart thudding a slow, heavy rhythm against her ribs. she didn't pull away. "depends on what you're looking for, jackson kenner."

he didn't answer with words. he simply leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and taking a long, shaky breath, as if he were finally finding his footing after a long time at sea.