LYRIAN AND REONE
The air between them was thick with tension.
The campfire crackled softly, filling the silence that stretched between Lyrian and Reone. The anger from earlier still lingered like smoke.
Reone's jaw was tight. He was still furious—not just because Lyrian had risked their lives at the waterfall, but mostly because she'd called him a selfish, inconsiderate jerk.
That had stung. He'd only been trying to protect her, to protect them. How was that selfish?
It was unfair for her to say that when all he ever tried to do was care for her —
He clenched his fist—Lyrian had done what most couldnt not,which is hurt his feelings.
Lyrian, on the other hand, was quietly cooking by the fire, lost in her thoughts. She pretended to still be angry, but her feelings were more complicated than that.
She knew, with a frightening certainty, that she was developing feelings for Reone again—the moment at the waterfall had proved it. The one right before the Noxshade attacked, that is.
Somehow, she'd started to believe he was changing, that he was trying. So maybe… maybe they could've been together again.
But today had proved her wrong, hadn't it? The way he snapped, the way he acted — it reminded her of the same stubborn, guarded, impossible guy she swore she'd never fall for again.
And now Lyrian was terrified that maybe she was repeating the same mistake—falling into the same toxic cycle.
They barely spoke. Even the almost-kiss at the fountain felt like it belonged to another lifetime.
When dinner was over, they cleaned up in silence and decided to rest. They had to be up early — before the sun made travel unbearable.
"I'll take first watch," Reone said, his voice flat. Though he had no intention of waking Lyrian later.
Lyrian nodded, too tired to argue. "Goodnight, Reone."
She crawled into their small tent, lying on her side as her mind spun. Sleep didn't come easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the waterfall—the chaos, the fear, Reone's furious expression.
He had been right. The Noxshade had nearly killed them. She had risked everything, and for what? A principle? A belief?
If they'd died, who would've saved Ruminia then?
Still, killing the creature had felt wrong. She couldn't have done it—not when the forest's balance depended on it. That was who she was. And she wished Reone could just understand that.
But she also hadn't been fair to him. He'd only wanted to keep her safe.
With a tired sigh, Lyrian drifted between sleep and wakefulness, forcing herself to stay half-alert. She knew Reone—he wouldn't wake her for her turn.
It was up to her to wake herself.
A cool breeze swept through the trees when Lyrian finally pushed herself out of the tent. The sky was still dark, painted with deep indigo and faint stars. She guessed it was one or two hours past midnight. She rubbed her eyes, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.
The campfire had burned low, its embers faintly glowing. Reone sat slouched against a log, his eyes half-closed, the faintest trace of fatigue softening his usually sharp expression.
She knew better than to sneak up on him.
Lyrian hesitated before speaking quietly. "Reone."
His eyes snapped open immediately, alert, scanning the shadows before landing on her. The tension in his shoulders eased.
"Lyrian? It's not morning yet… is it?" he asked, looking around. Then he rubbed his eyes. "What are you doing up?"
"It's my turn to keep watch," she said softly. "You should get some rest."
"That's not necessary," he muttered, trying to stifle a yawn.
Lyrian raised an eyebrow and walked over, sitting beside him on the log. The night air was cool, brushing gently against her skin.
"You never planned to wake me, did you?" she asked, her tone sharp but not cold.
Reone gave a tired smirk. "Now, does that sound like something a selfish, inconsiderate jerk would do?"
Lyrian grimaced. "Okay… I deserved that."
He glanced at her, surprised when she didn't snap back.
"About that," Lyrian began softly, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. "I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. It wasn't fair. You're not selfish or thoughtless, Reone. All this time we've been here, youve put me first—protectedme—and I'm really grateful for that… and really sorry for what I said..."
Her voice faltered, and she looked down, clearly not knowing what else to say.
Reone watched her quietly, his anger melting away. "I appreciate you saying that," he said after a moment. "And I forgive you, Lyrian."
Her eyes flicked up in surprise. "Really?"
He shrugged lightly, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I mean, what else can I do for someone who's let me off for being a jerk a dozen times?"
"So you admit you're kind of a jerk?" Lyrian teased softly.
"Wasn't this supposed to be an apology?" Reone asked, feigning offense.
That earned a quiet laugh from her—but it ended in a sob.
Lyrian then covered her face with her hands, shoulders trembling.
"Hey—hey, what's wrong?" Reone asked, panic lacing his voice as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you hurt?"
Lyrian shook her head, tears slipping through her fingers. "No… nothing like that. It's actually nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
The reason for her tears was that she was here, with him—because she cared, maybe too much. Because falling for Reone felt like standing on the edge of a cliff again, not knowing if he'd catch her or let her fall.
Still, she only managed to whisper, "It's just that the last few days… they've been a lot. I'm just tired, that's all. I'm sorry."
Reone's expression softened. "You don't have to apologize for how you feel."
He reached up and gently brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. Their eyes met, and the world seemed to go still. Slowly, he leaned forward until their foreheads touched.
"I'm here for you," he murmured.
"I know," Lyrian whispered. And that's the problem, she thought.
A fresh wave of tears welled in her eyes. Seeing them, Reone wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she buried her face in his chest. Her sobs came quietly, each one breaking his heart a little more.
After a moment, she pulled back. Their eyes met again—and something unspoken passed between them. The air was thick, trembling with emotion.
Lyrian's gaze flicked to his lips. And before she could stop herself, she leaned in.
Her lips met with Reone's—soft at first, then deeper, desperate, like two people trying to forget every wall they'd ever built. Reone's hand found the small of her back, pulling her closer, while Lyrian cupped his face with both hands, her fingers trembling.
The fire crackled softly beside them, and for a moment, everything disappeared—everything except each other.