Memory fading by inches. Sparks dancing in her eyes. The jungle waking around them as night falls. She's as frightened and vulnerable as she's ever allowed him to see, and she's never looked so achingly beautiful. Together they sit, on the precipice of doom, and all he can contemplate is how inviting her lips look in the flickering light of the campfire...
They might not exist tomorrow. What's there to lose, right?
(Wrong.)
Contrary to popular belief, nothing happens. Nothing...save that he holds her in the night, after the fire dies, to keep her warm.
(...or so he tells himself.)
