The hour before dawn.
A pale, milky light spilled silently through the window, soft and diffused, like breath upon glass.
The curtains were slightly parted, and the air inside the room hung heavy—a quiet blend of antiseptic and lingering warmth.
Noah stirred.
His lashes fluttered open slowly, gaze fixed on the ceiling above.
For a long while, he said nothing.
Only the sound of his own breath filled the space, steady and alone.
Then, with a faint motion, he turned his head—and there she was.
Celeste, slumped gently at his bedside, fast asleep with her head bowed low.
Stray strands of hair had fallen across her brow, and her fingertips still rested lightly atop the back of his hand.
Without meaning to, his lips parted.
"…Where… am I?"
The sound of his voice made her eyelids flutter open.
"Hey…How do you feel?"
Her voice was low, quiet—but unmistakably laced with relief.
"This is my nest," she said softly.
"We came here that night…You were bleeding badly, so we did the emergency treatment here."
Noah exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting down to the bandages wrapped around his leg.
Beyond the stitches left by the doctor, his skin bore a constellation of old wounds—ones she had now seen in full.
"…So you saw everything."
The words fell from his dry lips like dust.
Celeste didn't answer right away.
She only nodded, slowly.
"Yes. I saw."
Noah gave a faint, lopsided smile.
"Must've scared you."
She didn't reply.
Instead, she tightened her fingers around his.
As if to say the words he no longer had to utter.
"…What happened to you?"
she whispered.
"How long have you carried all this…"
The room filled with a silence too sacred to disturb.
Noah turned his gaze away.
Where her touch met his skin, something deeper than scar tissue stirred.
She looked at him—truly looked.
And there, in the depths of his eyes, she saw it:
The still waters of pain no hand had ever reached.
A darkness so familiar to him, it no longer frightened him—only wore him down, one breath at a time.
Noah closed his eyes.
And with that simple act, he sank again—
Back into memory.
Back into the blood, the cold, and the long, merciless nights that had kept him alive.