I could lay snuggled up in bed with Aiden all day, all night. I think he feels the same way.

It’s a long time before we reluctantly untangle from each other, separating our intertwined bodies. It takes some serious effort for me to fight down the urge to sink right back into Aiden’s arms, insist that we stay like this just a little bit longer.

We both sit up slowly, hazily. Blinking around at my room like we forgot the rest of the world was there, forgot about everything but each other.

Dried-out earth and grass clings to the comforter I slept on top of. Signs of the wilderness, left there by my clothes and shoes. One loose wildflower snagged in the threads. I dreamt of the Guardian Tree last night, and I wonder if it’s because I had the soft, natural scent of its forest surrounding me as I slept.

I trail my hand over the comforter, thinking about everything that happened over the past few days. It all feels strangely unreal to me. Especially the last twenty-four hours of it, when my exhaustion was running me into the ground.

But here's the irrefutable evidence of my unwilling separation from Aiden. Of our struggle back to each other.

Aiden follows my eyeline. He presses a slow, tender kiss onto my jaw, then climbs out of bed to get dressed.

I leave my fingers on the soft folds of the comforter for a moment. Then I pull on my boxers and jeans, head to the bathroom, and find my razor.

I straighten up when I’m done shaving, looking at myself in the mirror. Between the shower and the shave, I look much more like myself. A raw, exhausted version of myself, but some coffee should help with that.

When I come back out, I see that the damp pile of our clothes that was on my floor - everything that we were wearing when we got drenched in the rainstorm - is gone. As are my clothes from yesterday. Aiden must have taken them. The washing machine is humming in the other room.

Aiden is already dressed, waiting for me back on the bed. The comforter that was dotted and speckled with plants and earth has been folded up, set aside. Aiden is holding the tiny white wildflower by its delicate stem. I smile at him, then take another one of his sweaters from the dresser drawer.

Aiden sits cross-legged on the blankets, watching attentively as I pull his soft, marine-blue sweater down over my head. Staring openly at me.

He keeps staring as I twist my fingers through my damp hair, trying to get it organized. I do my best to ignore him, to pretend that I don’t feel his gaze on me. But Aiden locks eyes with me in the mirror, a little smile turning up his lips, and I blush immediately.

“Stop it, Callahan!”

He tips his head to the side. “Stop what?”

“Looking at me while I look like a disaster!”

Aiden doesn’t move his eyes away. Instead, he travels them down my body at a slow, lingering pace. Then back up, just as slowly, until he looks into my eyes through my reflection again.

“I think you look very cute and sexy right now,” he says, startling the hell out of me.

“What?” I sputter, then let out a disbelieving laugh, looking at myself in the mirror. “Um…”

Aiden’s sweater is way oversized on me, swallowing me up, the sleeves coming down past my knuckles. My cheeks are crimson from his words. My lips are also a deep shade of red, from his kisses. I’m especially pale after the stress of the last few days, which means all of my freckles are thrown into extremely sharp relief. My hair is still a damp mess, haphazardly slicked back out of my face. And I look tired, like, really tired.

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell Aiden. “I would literally never leave my place looking like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Keane. And I liked you with the scruff, too.”

I make a face at Aiden. “Now I know that you’re joking.”

He sets the wildflower against my pillow, pushes himself up out of the bed with one smooth motion, and comes to stand behind me.

“I’m not joking,” he rumbles, wrapping his arms around me. “I kinda loved it.”

I arch a skeptical eyebrow at him. “No, you d-”

“Yes, I did.” Aiden puts his chin on my shoulder. “Suits you, really. But I know you don’t like it, and I’d rather see you smiling.”

He turns his face into my neck, brushes a kiss onto my skin.

I shiver a little, then startle when Aiden scoops me up into his arms and deposits me back on the bed. He drops to his knees on the mattress, takes my injured foot in his hand. Examines the bandage that I bled through.

I flop onto my back, supposedly so that I don’t have to watch as he removes the bandage. In reality, because I’m still blushing from what he said.

“What happened, Jamie?” Aiden eases the bandage away, and cool air rolls over my foot. “How’d you get this?”

“I - snagged my shoe on a bramble.”

I don’t add that I was sprinting through the forest to find him when it happened. I’m still trying to figure out how to tell him about everything that went down while we were apart. Especially the part about my car, which he’s inevitably going to have questions about when he realizes it's missing.

Or - is there a chance that Noah got it back? He said he would, but I haven’t let myself hope.

I don’t doubt Noah's capabilities. It's just that the engine is shot in like fifty different ways, according to the mechanic. Even if Noah can get my car out of the lot, I have no idea how he’s planning on getting it all the way back to Ketterbridge.

Still, maybe...

While Aiden heads to my bathroom to find a new bandage, I lean over and plug my dead phone into the charger. It takes me a few tries. My sore hands are clumsy, and I have some pretty intense blisters forming on my palms.

I have a feeling that my phone is going to light up with notifications the instant it turns on. Kent and Gabby must be wondering what the hell happened, and Noah, too. To everyone else I asked about Aiden's whereabouts, I tried to make it seem like I was just wondering, no big deal. Still, I'm sure that I have at least one or two worried texts to respond to.

I look up as a knock comes at the front door of my apartment. Aiden is still sorting through the first aid kit, so I get up and pad into the living room, stumbling a little. We slept for a full day and night, but it feels like my body is still recovering from the massive energy expenditure it went through.

I open the door, sleepily rubbing my eyes, and find myself blinking up at Kent.

“Jamie!” he says, with obvious relief. “I was seriously starting to worry-”

He stops, taking in the exhausted circles around my eyes, how startlingly pale I am.

“Hey,” I mumble, trying to pull myself together. “Sorry, I was - um - Aiden needed me.”

Kent nods slowly, looking no less concerned. “Is he feeling better?”

“He is, yeah.” And now I’m the one with obvious relief in my voice. “Much better.”

Kent braces my shoulder with his free hand. In the other, he’s got - oh, my god. A cup tray from Mugshot, with two big coffees and two brown paper bags. Hot steam unfurls slowly from the bags, releasing a delicious, fresh-baked kind of scent.

“I didn’t realize how sick Aiden was,” Kent says, sounding strangely guilty. “But I know you, so I know that you wouldn’t have missed two shifts at the shop without saying anything if it wasn’t serious...”

“Oh, Kent-” I clasp my hands over my mouth, only just now realizing. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry that I no-showed my shifts, I - the last few days have been really, um - tough, and I-”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Kent says hastily. “If anything, I feel bad! I should have checked on Aiden more times before you came and got him from my place.”

I definitely didn’t go get Aiden from Kent’s place, but I don't correct Kent on it. This wrong assumption means that I don’t have to lie about why Aiden disappeared from the attic, which - thank god. That could only have gone badly.

“Well - don't worry about that,” I say instead. "He’s okay. He's feeling much better."

Kent breathes out a heavy exhale, then pushes the cup tray into my hands.

“Good.” He adjusts his glasses, nods down at the coffee and the pastry bags. “Consider that my apology for not taking better care of him. I’ll tell Gabby that he's alright, too. She’s been worried.”

I blink at Kent, a little taken aback.

“Thanks, boss,” I say warmly. “I was - kinda expecting a lecture, to be honest.”

Kent shakes his head.

“Not this time. You’re not the only one who cares about Aiden, you know.” He peers at the dark circles around my eyes. “And you, Jamie - have you gotten any sleep, yourself?”

“Kinda like - none, then a lot all at once after Aiden got better,” I admit. “I’m fine, though.”

Kent gives my shoulder one more squeeze.

“Take today off, too,” he says. “I covered for you yesterday, and Destinee said she doesn’t mind covering for you today. Something about you doing the same thing for her approximately a billion times?”

I laugh, then sort of sag forward, relieved and grateful that Kent isn't furious with me. He gives me a hug, slaps my back, and draws away, running a hand over his close-cropped beard.

“You’ll call me if you need anything?” he asks.

"Yeah." I nod, let out a breath. “Thanks, Kent. I will.”

Aiden is waiting on my bed when I step back into my room. I set the cup tray on the dresser, then drop down next to him. He takes my foot back into his hands, and I sit back. I would normally take care of this myself, but my hands aren’t being particularly cooperative today.

Aiden gestures at the door with a slight incline of his chin. "Who was that?"

“Kent.” I hiss a little at the sting of peroxide. “He’s not mad at us, shockingly.”

“Oh.” Aiden pauses, the bandage in his hands. “No lecture?”

“Nope.” I lean over to tap Aiden’s nose. “He was just worried about you, babe. Everyone was.”

Aiden bites his lip. He gently applies the bandage to my foot, taking his time with it.

“Did you…” he says, very softly, not looking at me - “Did you tell anyone…?”

“No." I quickly reach out to take Aiden's face in my hands, make him meet my eyes. “The only one I talked to was Noah, and I didn’t say a word about you being a Guardian. I promise.”

Aiden looks at me with wide, grateful eyes, draws in a deep breath.

Then he pauses, and takes another one.

"Something smells, like - really good."

“Kent brought us food," I explain, gesturing at the dresser.

Aiden and I both stare at it, simultaneously realizing that we’re fucking starving.

Together, we settle down onto the couch in my living room and open up what Kent brought us. Coffee with cream, in the largest size cups that Mugshot offers. One of the pastry bags has two breakfast sandwiches inside. The other has croissants and hot rolls.

The croissants are perfectly crispy, and the hot rolls melt in my mouth. Aiden and I devour everything in minutes. I take a long, life-giving first sip of coffee, and Aiden snickers at the expression of pure bliss on my face.

When the food is gone, we sit quietly for a moment with our coffees.

I think we both know that it's time to talk.

“Just - let me text Noah real quick." I tap Aiden's nose with my fingertip. “He’s the only one besides me and the ghosts who knows that you were missing. He’s probably super worried.”

Aiden nods, looking relieved to have a moment to gather himself together before we speak.

I pad back into my bedroom and find my phone flooded with notifications.

Angie and Des sent a sad-face selfie for me to show Aiden. Our faces when we heard that you're sick!😔 Feel better soon!

Kent and Gabby both asked me for updates more than once. Ripley wanted to know how Aiden was doing, too. Aunt Sarah said she hadn’t heard from Aiden for a few days, did I know where he was?

Raj heard from Kent that Aiden was sick, and he texted to say that he’s around if we need anything, food or hugs or stops at the pharmacy. Melanie sent me a recipe for cookies that she knows Aiden likes, in case I wanted to make him something special when he gets better.

I find myself smiling, reading these. So many different people reaching out, concerned about Aiden.

The rest of my notifications are unrelated, although my mom was clearly a little worried at my unexplained silence.

I respond to her and to Aunt Sarah, then open my messages with Noah. I thought he would have sent a ton of texts, given the situation, but there’s only one.

Noah ⚡ 9:08 PM: Let me know when you find him.

I stare down at my phone, warmth unfolding in my chest. I really appreciate that Noah had so much faith in me. Let me know when you find him. Not if. No follow-up. Like he knew I could do it, and that was all that needed to be said.

I smile to myself as I type out my answer.

Me 8:25 AM: Found him.😊 He’s okay. Did you manage to get my car back?

I hesitate, my thumb over the send button, then back up and adjust my wording.

Me 8:25 AM: Found him.😊 He’s okay. Let me know when you’ve got my car back.

Then I set my phone aside, leaving it to charge. Everyone else thinks that Aiden is just under the weather. The responses to those ones can wait.

Aiden and I need to talk first.

I hesitate by my bed, looking down at my battered, blistered hands.

I’m seriously anxious about telling Aiden what I went through over the past few days. I wish I could soften the edges, leave things out, not give him the full picture. But my lying skills aren’t what you’d call award-worthy, and…

Even if they were, Aiden deserves the truth. The whole truth.

He’s just - a really empathetic person, despite what my high school self thought. And he loves me, so he’s not going to like hearing about me being scared to death, hurting my hands, losing my car...

But this has to happen.

I start for the living room, then double back and pick up the wildflower, which was still resting against my pillow. I want Aiden to know that he kept me warm, even in his sleep, even across the distance between us. That because of him, instead of waking up half-frozen, I woke up on a bed of wildflowers.

Aiden is waiting for me on the couch, one knee tucked up, his Mugshot cup in his hands. He gives me a little smile when I drop to sit down with him, but it’s a nervous one, and it goes away quickly.

Wordlessly, he holds something out to me. I blink down at it, caught by surprise.

“It was stuck to your flannel,” Aiden explains quietly. “The one you were wearing in the rain.”

It’s the cutting of the malachite plant.

It must still be alive, because all three leaves have their faces turned towards Aiden. I could swear they almost look happy to be back in close proximity to their power source. The youngest leaf, the one still partially furled, has opened up.

I dropped the jar that the cutting was in when I saw Aiden, so I thought it was lost forever. I didn’t realize that I had a tiny green passenger riding on my flannel.

I let out a soft little laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. Then I hold out the wildflower.

Aiden’s gaze drops to it, then flits questioningly back to my face.

“You grew it,” I tell him. “While you were asleep.”

Aiden stares at me, and I stare back at him. Our eyes drop to the two little plants held out in our hands.

“Think we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Aiden says slowly.

I take a deep breath, then nod.

“Yeah, I think we do.”