Chapter 50

Morning came quietly.

Too quietly.

Lisa was the first to notice.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her arm still wrapped around Jennie, who was curled up against her like she had no intention of ever leaving. Kuma was wedged somewhere near their legs, snoring softly—yes, snoring.

For a moment, Lisa just lay there, listening.

No wind.

No rattling.

No howling storm.

Just… silence.

Lisa blinked, then carefully shifted, trying not to wake Jennie. She peeked toward the window—

And froze.

“…Whoa.”

—

Outside was no longer chaos.

It was magic.

The storm had stopped.

The world was covered in a thick blanket of untouched snow, glowing under the soft early morning light. Trees stood still and heavy with white, the sky painted in gentle hues of pale blue and gold as the sun slowly rose.

Everything looked… peaceful.

Like the storm had never happened.

Lisa couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her face.

“Jennie…” she whispered.

No response.

“Jendeukie…”

A grumble.

“Mm… five more minutes…”

Lisa chuckled softly and poked her cheek.

“You’re gonna want to see this.”

Jennie groaned dramatically, burying her face deeper into Lisa’s chest.

“If it’s not food, I don’t want it.”

Lisa leaned down, whispering near her ear—

“It’s snow.”

Jennie went still.

“…We’re already in snow.”

Lisa smirked.

“Not like this.”

A pause.

Then—

Jennie’s head slowly lifted.

“…Define ‘not like this.’”

—

Five minutes later, Jennie was fully awake.

Well—awake enough.

Wrapped in layers upon layers (Lisa insisted, Jennie complained), she stood at the camper door, squinting suspiciously.

“You better not be exaggerating,” she muttered.

Lisa just smiled and opened the door.

Jennie stepped out—

And gasped.

“…Oh.”

—

The world stretched out in glittering white.

Fresh. Untouched. Sparkling under the morning sun like millions of tiny diamonds scattered across the ground.

No footprints.

No noise.

Just pure, peaceful winter.

Jennie stepped forward slowly, boots crunching into the snow.

“…It’s so pretty,” she whispered.

Lisa watched her, heart softening instantly.

Because Jennie—her Jennie—looked even prettier.

Hair messy under a beanie, cheeks already turning pink from the cold, eyes wide with quiet wonder.

Kuma, however—

Chaos.

The moment his paws hit the snow, he launched himself forward, zooming across the white field like a tiny rocket.

“KU—” Jennie shrieked. “KUMA!”

Too late.

The tiny Pomeranian was already diving face-first into snow, barking like he had just discovered his life purpose.

Lisa burst out laughing.

“He’s living his best life!”

Jennie, still half in panic, half in disbelief, chased after him.

“Kuma! You’re going to disappear in there!”

—

A few seconds later—

THUD.

Jennie slipped.

“—AH!”

Lisa’s laughter cut off immediately.

“Jennie!”

But instead of panic—

There was silence.

Then…

Giggles.

Soft at first.

Then louder.

Lisa blinked.

“…You okay?”

Jennie lay there in the snow, staring up at the sky, laughing like she’d just discovered something amazing.

“…It’s cold,” she said.

Lisa walked over, raising a brow.

“That’s your conclusion?”

Jennie turned her head, smiling lazily.

“But it’s fun.”

Lisa huffed a small laugh, shaking her head.

“Of course you’d say that after falling.”

Jennie reached up suddenly, grabbing Lisa’s arm—

And pulled.

“Wait—Jennie—”

THUD.

Now both of them were in the snow.

Lisa groaned.

“You did not just—”

Jennie was already laughing again, clinging onto her.

“I’m not suffering alone!”

Lisa tried to look annoyed.

She really tried.

But then Jennie looked at her—

Eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed, smile so bright it almost hurt—

And yeah.

She was doomed.

Lisa sighed dramatically.

“…You’re lucky I love you.”

Jennie grinned.

“I know.”

—

Kuma came charging back, jumping onto them like an excited little menace, paws everywhere, barking like he was part of the chaos.

“Hey—!” Lisa laughed, trying to shield her face.

Jennie just hugged Kuma tightly.

“Our baby is thriving,” she declared.

“He’s attacking me,” Lisa corrected.

—

Eventually, they made it back inside the camper, cold, a little wet, but way happier.

Jennie sat wrapped in blankets again, holding a warm cup Lisa had made for her, still smiling to herself.

“That was fun,” she admitted.

Lisa leaned against the counter, watching her with a soft expression.

“Yeah?”

Jennie nodded, taking a sip.

“…Let’s stay another day.”

Lisa blinked.

“You were the one who called this a survival documentary.”

Jennie shrugged.

“Now it’s a romance.”

Lisa laughed under her breath.

“Of course it is.”

Jennie looked at her over the rim of her cup.

“…You’re still part of it, you know.”

Lisa smiled, walking over and crouching in front of her.

“Good,” she said softly. “I don’t plan on leaving.”

Jennie rolled her eyes.

“Cheesy again.”

Lisa leaned closer.

“And you still love it.”

Jennie didn’t answer.

She just leaned forward—

And kissed her.

Soft.

Warm.

Lingering.

—

Outside, the snow sparkled under the rising sun.

Inside, the camper was filled with quiet laughter, warmth, and the soft sound of Kuma snoring once again.

The storm was over.

But somehow—

This was the best part of the trip.