"Say something if you're having second thoughts." He spoke in hushed tones, one arm propping him up and the other wrapped around her shoulders. A draft slipped in past the flap of the tent and caused both to shudder. He pulled her closer. Their skin stuck together as she let out a low, shuddered breath. Somewhere nearby running water and crickets could be heard. Outside the door a pile of embers glowed where a fire had been earlier. A bottle of wine, half finished, sat alongside it.
"I'm not going to change my mind," she sighed into his skin, burying her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled of sandalwood. Her heart pounded in her throat, threatening to choke her. He wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close.
"Gods help me." he murmured into her hair.
They could never turn back.