The morning air carried the sharp brightness of a sky too clear to be ignored. Just beyond the hotel, a stretch of land had been transformed into a playground for adults: ropes tied between wooden posts, buckets hidden behind shrubs, colorful flags dotting the green expanse, and staff members in bright vests handing out folded clue cards. The faint smell of fresh grass and sun-warmed earth clung to everything.
Couples filtered onto the grounds, some eager, others hesitant. A whistle blew once, not to command, but to gather attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the coordinator announced cheerfully, holding up a card, "today's scavenger hunt is all about teamwork. Each couple will receive a series of clues. Work together, think fast, and remember -- there's more to this than winning. It's about learning how you communicate."
Damien leaned toward Maya, his voice low enough for only her to catch. "You ready for this?"
She quirked a brow, adjusting the strap of her sundress. "Are you worried I'll leave you in the dust?"
A smirk curved his lips. "More worried you'll cheat."
"You mean outsmart you," she corrected, already reaching for the card. Her fingers brushed his, a small spark that neither acknowledged out loud.
Across the field, Logan accepted his clue card beside Brielle. His jaw was tight, eyes flickering toward Maya and Damien before he forced himself to look down. Brielle noticed. She always noticed.
"This is our chance," she whispered brightly, clutching his arm with rehearsed ease. "We'll show them we're just as strong."
Logan nodded distractedly, still catching the way Maya's laugh carried as Damien muttered something that made her shake her head.
The whistle blew again.
"Go!"
The field erupted into movement. Couples scattered, laughter mixing with mock protests and hurried footsteps on the grass.
"Clue one," Maya read aloud, her voice playful as she skimmed the paper. "'Find the color of the sun that isn't in the sky but hidden where water runs dry.'"
She blinked, wrinkling her nose. "That's… unnecessarily poetic."
"Translation: something yellow near the fountain," Damien said, already steering her in that direction.
"Or you just want me to run in heels," she muttered, jogging after him.
"You kept insisting you could handle it."
She shot him a look. "I didn't say I'd sprint a marathon."
"Good thing it's just a scavenger hunt," he tossed back, deliberately slowing when he saw her stumble on the grass. He pretended not to, but his hand brushed her elbow, steadying her. The casual intimacy of it made her chest feel too tight for a moment, though she masked it with sarcasm.
"Trying to make me owe you points already?"
"Points?" His grin widened. "I'll keep score, don't worry."
Meanwhile, Brielle dragged Logan toward the opposite side of the field, past a row of hedges. "We need to be quick," she urged. "If we get ahead, they'll notice."
"They?" Logan repeated flatly.
"You know who." Her eyes flicked across the grounds, landing squarely on Damien and Maya.
Logan didn't answer. He crouched, scanning under the bushes until his fingers brushed something smooth -- a painted yellow rock with a sticker tucked beneath it.
Brielle clapped. "Perfect! See? We're good together."
Logan stood, handing her the sticker without expression. His mind wasn't on the hunt. It was on the sound of Maya's laugh, the way her hair caught in the wind as Damien leaned closer to hear her response.
Edward and Helena -- Damien's parents-- watched from a shaded bench at the edge of the field. At first, Helena's lips pressed in the usual thin line, but something softened as she saw Edward bend to tie the loose lace of her shoe before she could bend down herself. She allowed him, surprisingly, and he glanced up at her with an almost boyish grin.
"You always were terrible with laces," he murmured.
Her reply was dry, but her mouth twitched. "And you always insisted on fixing them."
For a fleeting second, it felt like years had melted, leaving only the memory of what they used to be.
On another side of the field, Evelyn tossed a ball back and forth with her fiancé between clues. She smiled, she laughed, but her eyes cut often -- always toward Maya. The girl was blending in too well, too quickly. Damien beside her looked… different. Lighter. It was unsettling. Evelyn hid her unease beneath another practiced laugh when her fiancé leaned close to whisper something in her ear.
By the fountain, Maya crouched, hand dipping behind the stone lip until she pulled out a cloth pouch with a triumphant grin.
"See?" she said. "I'm better at this than you."
Damien leaned against the fountain edge, watching her with that unreadable half-smile. "Careful, you're starting to sound competitive."
"Starting?" she teased. "I was born competitive."
"Born difficult, maybe," he shot back.
Her scoff was exaggerated, but her cheeks warmed. She tore open the pouch and revealed the next clue. "'To move ahead, you'll need to stack high what usually falls low.'"
Maya tilted her head. "Stack high… what falls low?"
"Pinecones," Damien guessed, nodding at the trees nearby where others were already rummaging.
She eyed him suspiciously. "You've done this before."
"Just good at reading riddles."
"Or at pretending you know what you're doing."
His laugh slipped out, unguarded and warm, and for a moment Maya forgot herself, watching him like she was memorizing the sound.
Across the field, Brielle noticed the look. Her stomach twisted. She tugged on Logan's arm harder. "Let's go. We'll beat them."
But Logan wasn't watching the pinecones. He was watching Damien bend slightly so Maya could reach the lowest branches without struggling. The sight made something sharp coil in his chest.
Brielle followed his gaze, her jaw tightening. She forced another smile, though it felt brittle. "We're better," she said again, as if repeating it would make it true.
The hunt lasted over an hour. Couples dashed between stations, stacking, tossing, crawling under ropes, even balancing eggs on spoons while laughing at their own clumsiness. The air was full of shouts and laughter, competitiveness mixing with intimacy.
Maya and Damien, without even trying, fell into a rhythm. She teased, he countered, she mocked, he smirked. Every task became a game between them, yet they worked seamlessly -- her ideas quick, his execution steady.
Brielle, meanwhile, tried to hold Logan's attention, offering suggestions, forcing smiles, but every so often, his eyes strayed again.
Evelyn watched. Always. And each glance between Damien and Maya set something colder in her chest.
When the final whistle blew, couples gathered again near the coordinator's stand. Breathless, messy, smiling. The winners were announced -- Damien and Maya, to no one's real surprise.
Maya rolled her eyes as Damien raised their joined hands like champions. "Don't get cocky," she muttered.
"Too late," he said with a grin.
The others clapped, some good-naturedly, others less so. Brielle's hands stung from the force of her own clapping, her smile stretched too wide. Logan stayed silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground.
Edward and Helena exchanged a glance, the hint of an old spark in it. Evelyn kissed her fiancé's cheek, but her eyes were elsewhere, sharp and calculating.
And Damien? He bent just enough to whisper in Maya's ear, low and teasing, "Told you I'd keep score."
Her laugh slipped out, despite herself.
And everyone noticed.