Nathan walked steadily until he reached a tree. Without a word, he draped his jacket over Vicky, cocooning her so tightly she couldn't move.
"Don't move an inch," he warned.
Vicky's voice cracked the stillness, laced with dread. "Someone has to come this instant. My dream... it's twisting into something dangerous."
Nathan's eyes darkened with resolve. "And mine couldn't be more real."
With careful hands, he fashioned a crude cave-like shelter from branches and leaves.
"What are you doing?" Vicky asked, irritation and fatigue thick in her voice.
"Talking is moving. I said—no muscle."
"I'm suffocating in your jacket. And it smells. Were you running in this thing?" she groaned.
Nathan grinned with mock pride. "My sweat is sweet."
Vicky gagged theatrically.
"You'll never wear a jacket like this in your life," Nathan declared.
"Yeah, it's oversized... and gross," she muttered, half-laughing.
The shelter complete, Nathan tried to lift her again. Vicky resisted, attempting to run, but tripped over the jacket's folds. He felt the sharp stab of pain in her fall.
"Let me walk," she insisted, teeth clenched.
Nathan hesitated, then peeled off the jacket.
They walked together to the shelter—and just as they reached it, the fragile structure collapsed in a heap.
Vicky burst out laughing.
"Who builds a house like that?" she teased, laughter bubbling like a spring.
Nathan watched her, mesmerized by the joy breaking through her pain.
"Come on," Vicky said, eyes sparkling. "Let's build our house."
Nathan's gaze lingered on her, silent, captivated.
Meanwhile, Evan slipped quietly into the safety room, grabbed something, and disappeared without a trace.
Back in the woods, Vicky and Nathan set about rebuilding, their hands working in playful harmony. Nathan lost himself in her laughter, a rare balm for his soul.
Vicky gathered dry wood, stirring Nathan's curiosity.
She stepped outside—and the sky wept. The first raindrops fell, slow and deliberate.
Minutes passed. Nathan's eyes searched the gloom.
Where was she?
His calls echoed unanswered.
He found her—dancing freely in the rain, letting the cold wash over her.
He stood silently, a smile breaking through his worry.
Vicky caught his gaze and tugged him into the downpour.
"Come on… don't just stand there. Let's play. No one's here to laugh at you… Mr. Nathan Shikongo," she teased with a grin.
Nathan chuckled, the sound light and rare.
"You'll get sick," he warned, but before he could finish, Vicky pulled him down, teaching him how to embrace the rain.
"Rain is cool," she said. "You swirl and let your problems wash away. Close your eyes—imagine good things. Let your mind paint a beautiful world you want to live in."
Nathan closed his eyes.
In the darkness behind his lids, Vicky appeared in a wedding dress, radiant and serene, descending a staircase with a smile.
"What did you see?" Vicky whispered.
"My office," Nathan admitted nervously.
"Your office? That's good?" she asked, spinning beneath the rain.
Later, back inside their shaky shelter, Vicky produced two stones and began striking sparks.
Nathan's heart pounded—pyrophobia gnawed at his throat.
Vicky caught his hesitation and took his hand gently.
"As long as I'm here, no spark of fire will touch you," she said, voice steady, warm. "I'm here with you."
He felt the tension ease.
"It's just fire," Vicky smiled. "You're soaked and cold. This fire is what will keep you warm."
Nathan sank beside her, vulnerable as a child.
He tried to sit up, but his body refused.
Vicky rubbed his arms softly, coaxing warmth back into his chilled limbs.
She noticed bruises on his hand.
Tearing a strip from her shirt, she carefully dressed the wounds.
"Are you okay?" she asked, concern softening her voice.
"Yeah… I'll be fine," Nathan whispered.
"Pretend there's no fire," Vicky said softly. "Just you and me."
"Just you and me?" Nathan echoed, his eyes locked on hers.
A tender silence fell, heavy with unspoken longing.
Nathan felt an irresistible pull—a desperate desire to lose himself in her presence.
He leaned closer, lips trembling, as if to kiss her.
Suddenly, a sharp slap broke the moment.
"What are you doing?" Vicky demanded, eyes blazing with anger.
Nathan pulled back, confusion swirling in his gaze.
Vicky stood abruptly, crossing the shelter to sit on the opposite side.
"Vicky… um…" Nathan began.
She silenced him with a fierce glare.
Tension crackled like lightning between them.
Later, Vicky dozed off on the cold ground.
Nathan's pyrophobia surged anew, panic tightening his chest.
He repeated her words, whispering into the dark: "Just me and you… just me and you…"