"Landon, did you hurt your head?"
Zinnia tried to steady her nerves, forcing down the panic as she spoke.
Landon didn’t answer. He seemed almost unconscious, but somehow, his arms remained rigid, still bracing himself upright.
It was as if some primal instinct was keeping him from collapsing.
“Landon?”
Her voice shook, the fear more obvious now.
In the darkness, time felt suspended.
Zinnia had no idea how long she waited before Landon finally spoke, his voice slow and faint. “I’m here. What’s wrong? Are you scared?”
“Your head… you’re bleeding, aren’t you?”
Again, silence stretched between them.
Just as Zinnia thought he’d lost consciousness, Landon let out a low, barely audible hum.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing. Just a little cut. I probably hit my forehead on a rock by accident.”
This time, his words came out clear and steady, as if there really was nothing to worry about.
His casual tone almost made it believable—almost.
But Zinnia wasn’t so easily convinced.
He’d been quiet for too long before. There was no way he hadn’t heard her. He was only holding on by sheer willpower now.
“Landon.”
“Yeah?”
He responded right away.
“That time under the snow—it was like this. Pitch black, couldn’t see a thing. I was all alone, waiting for someone to find me…”
She spoke slowly, almost as if she were unburdening her soul to him.
After a long silence, she felt Landon nudge her hair gently with his chin. His voice was hoarse as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Zinnia didn’t reply, just kept talking.


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