I can already feel heat travel up my neck as I imagine stumbling my way through an uncomfortable explanation. I should just give him a romance novel and let him figure things out on his own.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to...erm...quench them," I say nervously. No matter how much I want to help him, this isn't something I feel comfortable talking about, nor do I think it would be a proper topic to discuss with a male friend. It's better if we just focus on the emotional aspect.

His mouth curls around the corners.

"I am sure I will," he drawls, his eyes boring into mine.

I swallow uncomfortably.

"We should make our way back," I suggest, getting up and dusting my clothes.

He rises, his posture straight and imposing.

"Let us depart," he states in an icy tone, barely sparing me a glance.

He walks ahead, not bothering to wait for me.

What the hell is his deal?

I hurry after him, gazing up at his lofty profile. His expression gives nothing away, a neutrality resembling the one from when I first met him encasing his features. Almost like a switch, he went from the vulnerable man he let me glimpse just a few seconds ago back to the ice block that thinks himself better than everyone else.

Perhaps he's regretting opening up to me? Ze strikes me as a man accustomed to showing no weakness, and he just admitted a huge one to me. At the same time, I'm also torn because the thought of being his only confidante warms me. But his current attitude makes me wonder why he said anything in the first place. His words implied that he cares for me, his previous actions too. His current ones, however? Not so much.

I sigh and hunch my shoulders. Since he's new to this feelings business, I'll cut him some slack. But that doesn't erase the fact that my feelings are slightly bruised.

We walk in silence for roughly two hours.

Every time I try to initiate a conversation, he mumbles a few brief words and then ignores me. Sometimes, he just stares intently at me, almost as if he's trying to decipher something.

When my stomach growls with hunger, we take a short break at the edge of a forest, right by a rocky cliff that feeds into a canyon. From a green and rich environment, we're now in the middle of a dry and arid one—a polar opposite. It's quite hard to imagine that these two landscapes would coexist in such proximity, but at this point, I don't think I should question the logic of the universe anymore. Anything is possible.