Chapter Text
∞
By the time morning came, the storm had weakened into a steady cold rain instead of the violent downpour from the night before. Bua woke first.
For a moment she stayed still beneath the blanket, listening to the sound of water dripping from the awning outside and the low rustle of wind moving through the trees. The lantern inside the tent had already burned out sometime before dawn, leaving the space washed in soft gray morning light instead.
Across from her, Phin was still asleep on the other cot, one arm thrown carelessly over her eyes, completely unaware of the world. Bua stared at her briefly. Then immediately decided she needed fresh air. She pulled on her jacket, zipped it halfway up against the cold, and stepped outside the tent. The air smelled overwhelmingly of wet soil and broken earth.
Morning fog hung low across the excavation site while rain continued falling lightly over everything. What used to be a structured research area now looked half-destroyed by the mountain itself. Several equipment markers had vanished entirely beneath mud. One of the outer supply tents had partially collapsed overnight, its frame bent sideways into the soaked ground. The access road beyond the site was still completely buried beneath earth and uprooted trees, the landslide scar cutting violently across the hillside like the mountain had been split open.
Bua wrapped her arms tighter around herself while slowly walking farther from the tent entrance. The destruction looked worse in daylight.
Much worse. Mud still shifted occasionally down the slope in small unstable streams while water ran endlessly through newly carved channels in the earth. Several trees leaned dangerously at odd angles now, roots exposed where the hillside had torn apart beneath them. Then something caught her attention. Bua stopped walking immediately.
Near the edge of the collapsed slope, farther uphill from their original excavation grid, a section of earth had broken away entirely during the landslide. Fresh mud and exposed sediment stretched across the open scar of the hill and buried within it was something unmistakably unnatural. Stone. Smooth. Curved. Her eyes narrowed instantly.
Slowly, carefully, Bua stepped closer through the wet ground. Rain dripped from the hood of her jacket as she stared at the exposed section now partially revealed beneath the collapsed soil.
Not stone. Bone. Human bone. More than one. Her heartbeat picked up immediately. Part of the hillside had opened during the landslide, exposing what looked like another burial chamber embedded deeper into the mountain beyond their current excavation zone. Fragments of pottery protruded from the mud nearby alongside weathered burial stones and what looked disturbingly like part of a wooden coffin structure preserved beneath layers of compact earth.
Bua’s eyes widened.
“Oh my God.”
Every trace of sleep disappeared instantly. Because this was older than the current site. Much older. And completely undocumented. She turned around so fast she nearly slipped in the mud before hurrying back toward the tent.
“Phin!” Bua shoved the tent flap open hard enough to startle the lantern hanging inside. “Phin, wake up.”
From the cot came only a groggy noise.
“Mmgh?”
Bua crossed the tent in seconds and grabbed her shoulder.
“Phin.”
This time sharper. Urgent. Phin blinked awake slowly beneath messy dark hair, still half-asleep.
“What happened?”
Bua looked at her with barely contained disbelief.
“I think the mountain just gave us another burial site.”
Bua practically dragged her outside before Phin was fully conscious.
“Baibua,” Phin complained weakly while stumbling after her through the mud, still trying to shove one arm properly into her jacket sleeve, “if this turns out to be a weirdly shaped rock, I’m going back to sleep.”
“Will you wake up already?”
“I am awake.”
“You’re literally yawning.”
“I can multitask.”
Bua ignored her entirely and kept pulling her uphill through the wet excavation site while rain misted lightly around them. Phin looked half-feral from sleep, hair a complete mess, glasses crooked from being shoved onto her face too quickly. But she let herself get dragged along anyway without resistance, one hand still rubbing tiredly over her jaw.
Then they reached the exposed slope. And Bua pointed.
“There.”
Phin followed her line of sight lazily at first. Then froze. The exhaustion vanished from her face almost instantly.
“…Holy shit.”
Bua turned toward her immediately, already talking too fast now.
“The sediment layering is different from the current excavation zone, do you see that? And the burial orientation—Phin, this wasn’t part of the mapped site. The landslide opened an entirely separate chamber—”
She stepped closer again, eyes bright despite the rain falling around them.
“And look there, the pottery fragments are older than the Mae Saeng grid findings. Way older. The preservation conditions underneath the compact soil must’ve protected everything and—”
Phin barely heard half the sentence. Because Bua was excited. Actually excited. Not annoyed. Not exhausted. Not glaring at her like she personally ruined the concept of peace. Her voice had completely changed, fast and animated and alive in the way it only became around discoveries like this. Phin found herself smiling before she could stop it.
“Baibua,” she interrupted softly, still staring at the exposed hillside, “I think you just found an untouched secondary burial site.”
Bua looked at her instantly, eyes impossibly wide.
“I know.”
The excitement in her voice made something warm pull unexpectedly in Phin’s chest. For one brief second, everything else disappeared. The storm. The landslide. The years apart. It suddenly felt painfully familiar standing beside each other in the rain like this, staring at history unearthed beneath their feet.
And before either of them fully processed it, Bua grabbed her. Not aggressively this time. Just sudden excitement. She threw both arms around Phin in a quick impulsive hug that nearly made them slip together in the mud.
Phin blinked in complete surprise. Bua seemed equally startled half a second later after realizing what she’d done. But instinct moved faster than thought. Phin’s arms wrapped around her automatically, steadying Bua against the slippery ground while laughing softly under her breath.
“Easy,” she murmured. “Or you’re going to discover a third burial site by falling into one.”
Bua didn’t even seem to realize what she had just done. Or maybe the discovery sitting in front of them had already overridden every other functioning thought in her brain.
The second she let go of Phin, she immediately crouched near the exposed slope again, careful of the unstable mud beneath her boots while rain misted softly through the trees around them.
“Look at the burial depth,” she said quickly, brushing wet hair away from her face as she leaned closer toward the exposed section. “And the structure placement—this wasn’t random erosion damage. There’s an actual chamber beneath this layer.”
Phin stayed standing beside her, hands tucked into her jacket pockets now, watching the excitement practically radiating off Bua. It had been years since she’d seen her like this up close. Focused. Animated. Completely consumed by discovery.
Bua pointed again toward part of the exposed earth. “If this section extends farther into the hill, then the original site mapping was incomplete. Which means the settlement area might’ve been significantly larger than we thought.”
Phin smiled helplessly.
“There she is.”
Bua kept talking without noticing.
“We need proper documentation immediately before more rain damages the exposed area and—”
“Good job, Baibua.”
That finally made Bua glance up briefly. Phin’s expression had softened into something openly fond now despite the teasing edge lingering underneath it.
“You found an entire hidden burial site before breakfast,” she said lightly. “Very overachiever behavior.”
Instead of glaring at her like usual, Bua just looked back toward the site again almost immediately, still too excited to properly defend herself.
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“This could completely change the excavation timeline.”
“Mhm.”
“And the burial patterns don’t match the lower excavation zone at all.”
Phin nodded solemnly beside her. “Terrible news for your future sleep schedule.”
Bua actually ignored the teasing completely. Phin looked mildly offended by that.
“Wow,” she murmured. “You really are academically intoxicated right now.”
Still nothing. Bua was already reaching carefully toward a partially exposed pottery fragment near the mud while muttering theories to herself under her breath. Phin couldn’t stop laughing softly beside her. Because somehow this version of Bua still affected her exactly the same way it used to years ago.
*****
For the next hour, both of them completely forgot they were technically stranded. The rain became background noise. The cold stopped mattering. Even the landslide itself temporarily lost importance beneath the adrenaline of discovery.
Phin eventually managed to pull Bua back far enough from the unstable slope to avoid getting buried alive by academic enthusiasm, though Bua looked personally offended by the interruption. Then came the difficult part: trying to get signal again. They stood near the edge of the higher ridge with Phin holding her phone up toward the gray morning sky while Bua hovered impatiently beside her.
“No bars,” Phin muttered.
“Try farther left.”
“I did.”
“Higher.”
“Baibua, I’m not summoning satellites manually.”
Bua ignored her and kept staring at the phone screen anxiously. The first call failed immediately. The second lasted three seconds before cutting into static. By the fourth attempt, Fang finally answered.
“PHIN?”
The sound crackled violently through the speaker.
“Congratulations,” Phin said dryly. “You’ve reached two wet anthropologist.”
“Oh thank God.” Fang sounded exhausted already. “Are you both okay?”
“Alive,” Bua answered immediately. “Listen—”
“The rescue team already arrived,” Fang rushed ahead first. “But the access road is worse than expected. They’re trying to figure out how to reach your area without sending heavy equipment directly through the excavation zone.”
Phin exchanged a quick glance with Bua.
“The soil’s unstable,” Phin said immediately, understanding the problem.
“Exactly. If they force machinery through the wrong section, they could destroy half the site.” Fang sighed loudly through the static. “So everything’s taking longer than expected.”
“We’re fine,” Phin assured her easily.
“Hang in there a little longer, okay?”
But neither Phin nor Bua looked particularly concerned anymore. In fact, Bua suddenly grabbed Phin’s arm hard enough to nearly yank the phone away.
“Tell her.”
“Ow.”
“Tell her.”
On the other end of the line, Fang sounded immediately suspicious.
“…Why do you both sound weirdly excited?” she asked cautiously. Then, after a pause: “Wait. Please don’t tell me you’re calling to announce you hooked up during a natural disaster.”
Bua nearly choked.
“What?!”
Phin burst into laughter beside her.
“Fang,” she said through a grin, “your opinion of us is fascinating.”
“I know both of you personally,” Fang replied flatly.
Bua looked horrified. “We did not—”
There was a pause. Then suspiciously:
“…So why do you sound excited?”
Bua leaned directly toward the speaker before Phin could continue.
“The landslide exposed another burial chamber.”
Silence.
“What?”
“A secondary site,” Bua continued rapidly, excitement rising all over again. “Completely undocumented. Different sediment layering, older pottery fragments, different burial orientation—Fang, this could predate the current excavation zone entirely.”
On the other end came the sound of absolute disbelief.
“…You found a new burial site while trapped in a landslide?”
Phin nodded seriously despite the fact Fang couldn’t see her.
“Very productive morning for us.”
Bua was already pacing now while explaining theories at dangerous speed. Phin watched her with barely concealed amusement. Honestly, Fang sounded more stressed hearing them excited than hearing them stranded.
*****
Eventually Phin managed to drag Bua back toward the tent under the argument that anthropologist still required calories regardless of how exciting ancient burial sites were.
Bua came willingly this time, though barely mentally present. The second they sat down inside the tent with bowls of noodles and canned food between them, Bua immediately reopened her notebook again.
Phin watched her for a moment in quiet amusement. Rain tapped steadily against the canvas overhead while Bua sat cross-legged on the floor, absentmindedly eating while rapidly writing notes at the same time, brows furrowed deep in concentration.
Somehow she wasn’t even looking at the food she was putting into her mouth anymore. Just mechanically shoving noodles in while continuing to write theories beside burial sketches. Phin couldn’t help laughing softly.
“Old habits really never die.”
Bua only hummed distractedly. A few seconds later she reached blindly for her drink and almost grabbed the portable stove instead. Phin caught her wrist immediately before disaster happened.
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe pause your academic awakening for thirty seconds and actually eat properly.”
“I am eating.”
“You almost drank boiling soup directly from the pot.”
Bua frowned faintly at the accusation but still obediently took the correct mug this time. Phin smiled despite herself and nudged more food toward her.
“Continue.”
Bua did. Still without looking up from her notes. The sight should’ve been ridiculous. Instead it just felt painfully familiar. Across from her, Phin leaned back slightly against one of the storage crates while watching Bua continue muttering quietly to herself about burial alignments and sediment disturbance patterns.
Then slowly, almost unnoticed, something uncomfortable settled behind Phin’s eyes. A dull heaviness. Her head suddenly felt warmer than before.
Heavy too. Like the beginning of a headache pressing slowly at her temples. Phin frowned faintly and rubbed once at the back of her neck. Probably exhaustion. Or the rain from yesterday. Or sleeping badly. She ignored it almost immediately. She’d dealt with worse during fieldwork.
Outside, the weather remained unstable for the rest of the afternoon. The rain eased briefly once or twice before returning harder again each time, turning the entire excavation site into mud and fog beneath the gray sky.
The rescue team still hadn’t reached them. Every few hours Fang managed to send short updates whenever signal allowed it. Road conditions unstable. Heavy equipment delayed. Alternative route being considered.
At some point near late afternoon, the rain started pouring heavily again, forcing both of them fully back into the tent as water hammered loudly against the canvas roof overhead.
Bua looked personally offended by the weather interruption. Phin, meanwhile, looked almost grateful for the excuse to sit down again. Her headache had gotten slightly worse.
Still manageable. Still ignorable. Fang’s next message came through almost ten minutes late due to bad signal. Worst case scenario, you may need to stay one more night.
Bua groaned immediately after reading it. Phin glanced over from her cot. “You’ll survive.”
“That’s not the issue.”
Phin laughed quietly under her breath. Another message buzzed through a moment later.
Fang : Also… small warning before you both panic later.
Bua narrowed her eyes suspiciously while opening it.
Fang : There’s a chance this situation might end up on local news because apparently “two university researchers trapped by landslide during excavation” sounds dramatic enough for reporters.
Bua dropped her head directly into her hands. Phin immediately burst into laughter.
“This is your fault somehow.”
“That’s incredibly unclear logic.”
Before Bua could continue spiraling, another message arrived from Fang.
Fang : Also Bua’s parents contacted me already since they can’t reach her. I told them she’s okay before they could start organizing a rescue mission themselves.
Bua exhaled deeply at that.
*****
By four in the afternoon, the rain still hadn’t stopped.
The entire mountain had disappeared again behind thick gray mist while water poured endlessly from the awning outside the tent in heavy streams. The steady sound of rain against canvas had become so constant it almost blended into the background now.
Inside the tent, the lantern had already been switched back on despite the early hour because the storm clouds made everything unnaturally dark. Bua barely noticed.
For the last hour she had been completely buried inside her notes again, reorganizing observations from the newly exposed burial chamber while occasionally muttering theories quietly to herself.
At some point she reached automatically for her tea and realized it had already gone cold. That finally made her pause. The tent felt… quieter. Too quiet.
Bua frowned faintly and looked up from her notebook for the first time in a while. Across the tent, Phin was lying fully stretched across the camping cot now, one arm hanging loosely off the side while the blanket sat twisted around her waist. Her glasses had been pushed carelessly onto the storage crate beside her sometime earlier. Bua stared for a second.
Then another realization hit her. Phin hadn’t spoken in a while. Actually, she hadn’t heard Phin’s voice at all for at least the last thirty minutes.
That felt immediately wrong. Phin was rarely silent for that long unless asleep, unconscious, or actively planning something dangerous. A small uncomfortable feeling settled into Bua’s stomach.
“Phin?”
No response. The rain hammered harder outside. Bua stood up quickly from the floor and walked toward the cot.
“Phin.”
Still nothing. Now genuinely uneasy, Bua reached out and nudged her shoulder carefully. The reaction came slower than normal. Phin shifted slightly with a tired groan beneath her breath before blinking her eyes open halfway. And immediately Bua knew something was wrong. Phin looked terrible.
Her face was flushed unnaturally warm beneath the dim lantern light, skin slightly damp with sweat despite the cold mountain air. Strands of dark hair clung messily against her forehead while her eyes looked unfocused in a way Bua had never seen earlier that day. Even her breathing sounded heavier now. Like exhaustion was dragging at her body. Bua’s stomach dropped instantly.
“Oh shit.”
Phin frowned weakly at her voice like she was struggling to focus properly.
“…Why are you looking at me like I’m haunting you?”
Her voice sounded rough. Thicker than normal. Bua immediately pressed a hand against her forehead. And cursed softly under her breath. Burning hot.
“You have a fever.”
Phin blinked slowly up at her, still looking half-asleep despite the obvious fever burning through her skin.
“It’s fine,” she murmured hoarsely. “I’ll be okay.”
“Your forehead feels like boiling water.”
“Mhm.” Phin shifted deeper beneath the blanket with a tired groan. “I just need to sleep it off a little.”
Even while saying that, she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. And that was when Bua noticed it properly. Phin was cold. Not just tired. But actually shivering slightly beneath the layers despite the fever heating her skin. The sight made something twist unpleasantly in Bua’s chest.
Without another word, she immediately crouched beside Phin’s large field backpack and started digging through it aggressively. Phin cracked one eye open weakly.
“…What are you doing?”
“Looking for medicine.”
“I probably packed some.”
“Probably?”
“You know. Spirit of adventure.”
Bua shot her a horrified look before returning to the bag.
The deeper she searched, the worse it became.
“Why do you have three flashlights?”
“In case two flashlights disappoint me.”
“Why is there an entire bag of coffee beans in here?”
“Emergency.”
“You packed six batteries but no medicine?”
“There might be medicine.”
Bua pulled out a tangled climbing rope next and stared at it in disbelief.
“Why do you even own this?”
Phin looked genuinely confused by the question. “That feels self-explanatory.”
Bua continued digging with increasing irritation.
Notebook. Compass. Portable water filter. Two spoons. An absurd amount of beef jerky that they also had earlier. And yet, still no medicine.
“You are unbelievable,” Bua muttered.
Phin let out a weak sleepy laugh from the cot. Finally Bua stopped digging long enough to press both hands briefly against her own face.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself then took a deep breath. Then another. Then a third one that somehow sounded angrier than the first two.
“Inhale.” Deep breath. “Exhale.” She paused. Nothing felt calmer. Bua opened her eyes.
“Everything’s fine,” she informed herself firmly. “She just has a fever. People get fevers all the time. She is not dying. I am an educated woman. I will remain calm.”
From the cot came Phin’s lazy voice:
“Thank you. I also think I’ll survive.”
Bua snapped immediately without looking at her.
“I was talking to myself, not you.”
That actually made Phin laugh properly this time, though weakly and followed by a cough. When Bua looked back at her again, Phin was smiling faintly despite looking miserable.
“Don’t worry so much,” she murmured softly.
Bua stared at her helplessly for a moment. Sweaty. Flushed. Still shivering under the blanket while pretending she was completely fine. Honestly exhausting.
“…Just sleep,” Bua muttered at last.
Phin hummed obediently and closed her eyes again. Still frowning slightly from the chills. Bua looked around the cold tent once before sighing heavily to herself. Then she pulled off her own jacket and draped it carefully over Phin on top of the blankets. Phin stirred faintly beneath the added warmth but didn’t wake again.
Outside, the rain continued pouring endlessly across the mountain while inside the tent Bua stayed sitting beside the cot, watching her far longer than she intended to. Later that night, the rain still hadn’t stopped.
The tent had grown colder after sunset, the damp mountain air creeping through the canvas walls while the lantern cast a soft yellow glow across the small space around them. Outside, the excavation site was completely swallowed by darkness and rainwater now.
Phin had slept through most of the evening.
At some point Bua managed to make herself eat something simple near the portable stove while occasionally glancing over toward the cot to check if Phin was still breathing normally.
Which was ridiculous. Obviously she was breathing normally. Mostly. Still, Bua kept checking anyway.
She didn’t have the heart to wake her at first. Phin looked exhausted even in sleep, curled beneath layers of blankets with Bua’s jacket still draped over top of them. Every now and then she shifted slightly with a faint frown, still feverish enough that strands of damp hair clung against her forehead.
But eventually Bua glanced at the clock again and sighed heavily. It was getting too late. And Phin hadn’t eaten anything since noon.
“Phin.”
Her voice came softer this time. No response. Bua set down her own mug before walking over to the cot and crouching beside it again.
“Phin,” she tried once more, gently nudging her shoulder this time. “Wake up a little.”
A sleepy groan came from beneath the blanket.
“…Mmgh.”
“You need to eat something.”
Phin squinted one eye open with the expression of someone personally betrayed by consciousness itself.
“I’m dying,” she mumbled.
“You have a fever.”
“Same thing.”
Bua ignored that entirely.
“Sit up.”
Phin looked deeply unconvinced by the idea but eventually pushed herself upright against the cot with visible effort, blanket still wrapped tightly around her shoulders like protective armor. Bua handed her the steaming bowl waiting nearby.Phin stared down into it suspiciously.
“…Oatmeal?”
“Yes.”
Her expression immediately turned tragic.
“Baibua.”
“Don’t start.”
“You made me sick people food.”
“You are sick people.”
Phin looked personally wounded by the statement.
Bua crossed her arms firmly. “Eat it.”
Phin muttered something dramatic under her breath but still accepted the bowl anyway, holding it carefully beneath the blanket while heat rose around her flushed face. Bua watched closely until she took the first bite. Phin looked at her with quiet accusation while chewing.
“It’s not even bad,” Bua defended immediately.
“It tastes emotionally responsible.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means suffering.”
Despite herself, Bua felt the corner of her mouth twitch slightly.
“Just finish eating.”
Phin sighed weakly like this was the greatest hardship she had ever endured. But she kept eating anyway while Bua stayed sitting beside the cot, watching her with the same worried expression she kept trying—and failing—to hide all evening.
After forcing down most of the oatmeal through dramatic suffering, Phin eventually curled back beneath the blankets again with a sleepy complaint about how Bua was “running a medical dictatorship.”
Then not even five minutes later, she was asleep again. The tent slowly grew quiet after that. Rain continued drumming softly outside while the lantern flickered gently above them, casting warm shadows against the canvas walls. Bua returned to her notes near the portable stove, occasionally writing down observations from the burial site while sipping now-cold tea beside her.
For a while, everything felt strangely peaceful.
Small. Contained. Like the storm had sealed the entire world down to just this tent and the two of them inside it. Every now and then Bua glanced automatically toward the cot. Still breathing. Still asleep. Still alive. Good.
An hour passed quietly like that before Bua finally stood again to check on her properly. The second she touched Phin’s forehead, her expression tightened. Still hot. Too hot. But underneath the fever heat, Phin somehow felt colder too.
The blankets and Bua’s jacket didn’t seem to be helping much anymore. Even asleep, Phin was visibly shivering now, curled tightly beneath the layers while instinctively trying to conserve warmth. One hand was tucked close against her chest while her shoulders trembled faintly from the chills. Bua frowned deeply.
“Phin,” she murmured softly, but Phin barely reacted beyond another tired shiver.
The temperature outside had dropped further overnight, and the damp cold from the storm made everything worse. Fever already exhausted the body, and the chills that came with it could make someone feel freezing no matter how many blankets covered them.
Bua stared at her silently for a long moment. Because unfortunately, she knew exactly what would help. Body heat.
Shared warmth worked faster than blankets sometimes, especially in cold environments like this. Direct contact helped stabilize temperature and reduce the violent chills long enough for the body to stop fighting itself so hard. Which meant there was only one practical solution left. Bua looked at the cot again. At Phin curled there shivering in her sleep. Then immediately looked away again.
Absolutely not.
A full ten seconds passed. Then another visible shiver ran through Phin’s body beneath the blankets. Bua closed her eyes briefly.
“Oh for God’s sake.”
She already knew she was going to do it. That somehow made it worse. Bua closed her eyes briefly and inhaled slowly through her nose. Okay. This was fine. This was practical. People shared body heat in survival situations all the time. It was basic field safety. Rational. Responsible. Possibly medically helpful.
And yes, maybe Phin only had a fever and was not, in fact, moments away from death despite what Bua’s increasingly catastrophic brain kept suggesting, but still. This was preventative care. Humanitarian work. Professional colleague behavior. Absolutely not anything related to the fact that Phin used to be her girlfriend.
Or the fact that Bua knew exactly how it felt to sleep tangled around her. Or the fact that this woman had once seen her naked, exhausted, crying, laughing, furious, half-asleep, and every other dangerously honest version of herself in between. None of that was relevant. This was science. And survival. And possibly community service.
After reassuring herself with this deeply fragile logic, Bua stood and moved around the tent one last time, checking the lantern, securing the tent flap properly against the rain, making sure the stove was fully off for the night.
Then she looked back toward the cot. Phin still lay curled beneath the blankets, visibly shivering in her sleep. Helpless. Burning hot and freezing at the same time. Bua sighed heavily.
“Oh, this is such a terrible idea.”
Then she walked toward the cot anyway. Carefully, she lifted the edge of the blanket and tried nudging Phin over enough to make space beside her. Which immediately proved difficult because Phin apparently weighed the same as a small archaeological monument.
“Why are you so heavy?” Bua muttered under her breath while trying to shift her slightly.
Phin made a sleepy protesting noise without fully waking.
“Mmgh.”
“You’re impossible even unconscious.”
Another weak shiver ran through Phin’s body. That erased the last of Bua’s hesitation. Carefully, awkwardly, she finally slid onto the narrow cot beside her, pulling the blankets back around both of them afterward.
The space instantly felt too small. Too warm. Too familiar.
Phin shifted automatically toward the new heat beside her even while half-asleep, brows relaxing slightly for the first time in hours.
Bua froze immediately. Beside her, Phin blinked her eyes open halfway with obvious effort. For several sleepy seconds she looked completely confused about what was happening. Then slowly realization reached her fever-heavy brain.
“…Baibua?”
“You’re cold,” Bua muttered defensively before she could say anything else. “Body heat helps.”
Phin stared at her blearily. Then, somehow, still managed a weak crooked smile.
“Are you taking advantage of me in my vulnerable state?”
Bua rolled her eyes so hard it physically hurt.
“Shut up and go back to sleep.”
Too tired to argue properly, Phin only made another soft sound beneath her breath. Then Bua carefully wrapped both arms around her, pulling her closer beneath the blankets until most of Phin’s cold shaking eased slightly against her body.
Almost immediately Phin melted toward the warmth instinctively. One arm slipped loosely around Bua’s waist. Her forehead pressed weakly near Bua’s neck. And suddenly they were—close. Dangerously close.
The position felt horrifyingly natural after all these years, like their bodies still remembered something neither of them had consciously allowed themselves to revisit in a very long time.
Bua could feel Phin’s slow breathing against her skin. Could feel the fever heat trapped between them beneath the blankets. Could remember far too clearly how many nights they used to fall asleep exactly like this.
Curled together after long days. After arguments. After field trips. After making out for hours while rain hit tent walls somewhere outside. The memories arrived all at once and entirely uninvited. Bua shut her eyes tightly. This was not romantic. This was not emotional. This was noble humanitarian medical intervention for the sake of humanity.
And unfortunately, even while half-delirious with fever, Phin still fit perfectly in her arms.
*****
The next morning arrived gray, wet, and freezing.
By the time the rescue team finally managed to make their way through the damaged access route toward the excavation site, Fang already looked one stress-induced headache away from spiritual collapse.
“This is why I hate mountains,” she muttered while carefully climbing over another stretch of unstable mud beside the emergency workers. “Nothing good ever happens in mountains.”
Behind her, Montree sighed patiently for what was probably the fiftieth time that morning.
“They’re fine.”
“You don’t know that,” Fang shot back immediately. “They’ve been trapped together for two nights.”
“Yes.”
“With unresolved emotional issues.”
“…Still yes.”
Fang looked genuinely distressed now. Dr. Montree wisely chose not to comment further.
As they approached the main excavation tent through the rain and fog, Fang’s anxiety only got worse. The site itself looked wrecked in daylight—mud everywhere, equipment partially buried, excavation markers destroyed by runoff from the landslide.
But what bothered her most was the silence. No movement. No voices. No sign of life at all. Fang’s imagination immediately became unhelpful.
What if they fought?
What if Bua finally snapped and shoved Phin down the hill?
What if Phin got too annoying and Bua buried her alive with the ancient remains?
What if some wild animal attacked them during the night?
Do Thailand even have mountain lions?
By the time they finally reached the tent entrance, her heart was beating so fast she could practically hear it over the rain. One of the rescue workers carefully pulled the tent flap aside. Fang taking a deep breath and braced herself immediately. She was fully prepared to witness blood, chaos, emotional destruction, or at minimum attempted homicide.
But instead, its silence.
Then absolute disbelief. Inside the tent, Phin and Bua were completely asleep. Wrapped around each other. Very wrapped around each other.
Phin lay half-curled against Bua beneath layers of tangled blankets while Bua practically held her in her arms, one leg hooked unconsciously over Phin’s beneath the blanket like they had been sleeping together for years instead of allegedly hating each other.
Phin’s face was buried on Bua’s neck. Bua’s hand still rested against Phin’s back. Both of them looked absurdly comfortable. Fang stared at the scene like she had just witnessed a murder. Behind her, Dr. Montree blinked once. Then muttered softly under his breath,
“Well. I’ll be damned.”
And immediately started laughing.
Unfortunately that only made the rest of the team curious. One by one, people started trying to look inside the tent to see what had rendered both Fang and Montree completely speechless.
And somewhere deep in the mountains, while rain continued falling softly across the excavation site, two supposedly divorced academic disasters remained entirely asleep in each other’s arms, completely unaware that their professional reputations had just become everyone else’s business.
*****