The fire cracked softly in the clearing, its amber glow flickering against the dark trees. Sparks drifted upward like tiny fireflies, vanishing into the stillness of the night. The air was cold, and the earth beneath them had long since lost its warmth.
Liora sat a few feet from Lif, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them. Her fingers idly traced over the stitching on her sleeves. The breeze tugged at her gently—like it was trying to get her attention, but she ignored it. Her eyes stayed fixed on the figure lying across the fire.
Her cloak was draped over Lif.
He lay on his side, curled in toward himself like he was trying to become smaller. His breathing was deep and even, each rise and fall of his chest lifting the cloak just slightly. Moonlight hit his back faintly, the firelight painting everything else in soft golds and shadows.
She didn't know why she gave him the cloak.
She told herself it was nothing. Just practicality. He looked colder than she did.
But her arms had goosebumps. Her fingers were numb. And still, she hadn't asked for it back.
She narrowed her eyes, watching the way his brows relaxed in sleep. It was the only time he ever looked truly at ease.
"Reckless idiot," she muttered under her breath.
Her voice barely stirred the air, but it was filled with something heavier than annoyance. It sounded tired. Frustrated. Maybe even... concerned.
When will you learn that you don't have to prove anything to anyone? she thought bitterly. You don't have to go stomping through the the cold forest with nothing but a shirt and those torn-up pants, like you're invincible. you dont have to always be on guard.
"You do too much," Lif. Always trying to take it all on your shoulders.
He stirred slightly in his sleep. Not awake—just shifting. He rolled onto his other side, turning his back to the fire, and the cloak slipped off his shoulder. Cold air rushed in.
Liora sighed quietly through her nose. She stood up, brushing bits of grass off her skirt. Her movements were quiet, graceful. She stepped across the fire, each footfall barely making a sound.
When she reached him, she hesitated.
The cloak hung loose around his midsection now, exposing the back of his shirt—ripped slightly near the shoulder seam, probably from another fight he didn't need to get into.
Gently, Liora pulled the cloak back up and around him, tucking it in at the edges. Her hands lingered for a moment. Then she stood still.
And stayed there.
Her eyes slowly traveled over his face. His mouth was slightly parted. His jaw relaxed. In sleep, he didn't look guarded. He didn't look like someone trying to lead or protect or prove something.
He looked... human. Vulnerable. Soft.
Peaceful.
Her expression softened despite herself.
"Why do you have to be like this?" she whispered, voice so low it was nearly silent.
Of course, he didn't answer. He was too far gone. Deep asleep, unaware that she was even there.
Still, she didn't move.
Her hand twitched slightly, like she was tempted to touch his hair—just once. But she stopped herself.
A warmth bloomed in her chest—small and unfamiliar. It spread slowly, annoyingly. She didn't like it. Not because it hurt, but because she didn't know what to call it.
She stared a moment longer, then blinked hard and shook her head. A sharp, quick motion—like trying to clear a fog that was settling in too close.
"No," she said under her breath, almost scolding herself.
She turned back to the fire, walked to her original spot, and sat down again—arms crossed, legs tucked in tighter.
She didn't speak after that. Didn't even try to sleep.
But the whole time, her eyes kept drifting back to Lif.