Celia was silent for a long moment. Then, for the first time, she smiled - genuinely, softly.
"Then I accept."
They were already descending the mountain when Eliot, awkwardly staring at his feet, suddenly spoke: "There's one important thing I should mention." Celia looked at him questioningly.
"In my room... there's only one bed." She raised an eyebrow, squinting slightly. Eliot hurried to continue.
"There are three options. First: I sleep on the floor. Second: You sleep on the floor. And..." He hesitated, his face reddening. "Third..."
"Or we could share the bed... temporarily."
He immediately raised his hands as if warding off invisible accusations. "But I swear! Nothing foolish! I'm not like that! It's just there's only one bed... and little space... and..."
Celia laughed quietly. Her smile was warm, slightly surprised. "You're nervous," she observed.
"Well, I don't invite witches to spend the night every day..."
"That's reassuring."
They walked in silence a while longer before Eliot spoke again. "Either way... you can't stay with us forever. I told you, remember? Parents... family... But if you truly want to stay... we'll need to find you a place." Celia grew thoughtful.
"A place?"
"Yes." He looked at her. "Can you do... something useful? Like, if you're good with remedies... You could make salves, poultices... help people."
Celia's smile widened. "What if I said I could?"
"Then you've already got a chance." Eliot nodded. "The local healer's old, and his ointments don't smell the best... I think you'd have some competition." Celia laughed, brightly - the first real laugh Eliot had heard from her. "You really believe a witch could find a place among ordinary people?"
"...If the witch is you, then yes." He shrugged.
She didn't answer, but something new appeared in her gaze almost like hope.
As they approached the base of Witch's Mountain, Eliot suddenly said:
"If I can't convince my parents to let you stay..." He scratched the back of his head. "I'll have to think of something else. Maybe say you're... a distant relative? Or a traveling herbalist needing shelter?"
Celia gave a quiet snort:
"Or you could say you found a witch and decided to hide her from the Inquisition."
"Haha... Well, that's the last resort." Eliot smirked. "Though if you think about it... it does sound rather heroic."
They both smiled. The sky darkened, the forest growing less welcoming. Eliot glanced toward the path leading to the village. "It's getting late. We should hurry home before the wolves decide we're dinner."
He stepped forward but paused, looking at Celia. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more serious:
"Thank you. For helping me... find some calm. For giving me a spark of hope... I never thought I'd feel alive again." Celia abruptly lowered her eyes. Her cheeks pinkened.
"Don't thank me... It's just..." She shrugged slightly, her voice barely audible. "You were so... alone. I was... a little lonely too. Maybe I just understood you." Eliot nodded. They walked in silence awhile before he continued:
"I don't even know how to convince my family to let you stay. Ours isn't the most welcoming home... And my sisters... they're..."
"Curious?" Celia offered carefully.
"Extremely." He chuckled. "But they're kind. Just... loud. Father's strict. Mother... might understand. But Father... I'm not sure. Could you... advise me? What would you say in my place?"
Celia slowed her steps, considering. Then she looked at him gently but earnestly: "I wouldn't lie. Just say you met a girl with nowhere to sleep. And you chose to help. Sometimes simple truth sounds more convincing than stories. Especially when it comes from the heart."
"From the heart..." Eliot repeated, holding her gaze longer than usual.
Celia, meeting his eyes, blushed faintly again: "But... it's your decision. I don't want to cause you trouble. If needed... I'll leave." "I don't want you to leave," Eliot said quietly.
For a moment, a warm, almost transparent silence hung between them.
They descended the mountain, passed through the darkening forest, and emerged onto the familiar path to the village. Eliot's house became visible through the trees - modest, with warm light in the windows.
Celia slowed, stopping right at the gate. Eliot noticed and turned to her: "Everything alright?"
She nodded, but her eyes shone with faint unease. "It's just... I've never entered someone's home like this. As if... everything might change."
"Well, we don't bite. Except Lilia. But she's joking. Usually."
Celia huffed a laugh, though her smile remained cautious. Eliot stepped to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked three short raps.