Mira didn't move right away.
She stood there, still looking at the so-called "bed," arms loosely crossed as if the longer she stared at it, the more it might start to make sense.
It didn't.
Behind her, she could feel Bram's attention still on her. Not heavy. Not pressing. Just… there.
Observing.
Waiting.
"So," she said finally, glancing over her shoulder, "how exactly does this work?"
His brow shifted slightly.
"Work?"
"Sleeping," she clarified, gesturing vaguely toward the back of the den. "You. Me. That."
A pause.
Then—
"I sleep there."
Mira looked back at the raised stone.
Then back at him.
"…right."
Another pause.
"And I sleep…" she prompted.
Bram's gaze flicked briefly toward the open space.
"Where you want."
Mira blinked.
That was… not what she expected.
She turned slightly, looking around again, as if maybe she'd missed something the first time.
There was still nothing.
No second space. No separate area. No attempt at dividing anything at all.
"…you don't have anywhere else," she said.
"No."
"Not even like a..." she gestured vaguely, "guest area? Corner? Something?"
Bram didn't answer right away.
Which, unfortunately, was answer enough.
Mira dropped her hand and looked back at him.
"So just to be clear," she said, "you're not expecting me to share that."
His expression didn't change.
"If you want to."
Mira stared at him.
"…I don't."
The shift was immediate.
Bram's brow pulled slightly, his gaze sharpening in a way it hadn't before.
"You don't," he repeated a hint of confusion lingered in his voice.
Mira crossed her arms loosely, leaning her weight onto one leg.
"No," she said. "I really don't."
A pause stretched between them.
Bram was looking at her with a tinge of hurt.
"You think I'd let anything happen to you," he said.
It wasn't phrased like a question.
But it landed like one.
Mira blinked, why was he looking at me with such sad eyes?
"That's not..."
She stopped herself, exhaling lightly.
"That's not what I'm saying."
His expression didn't fully relax.
If anything, it shifted something quieter again underneath the confusion now.
"You don't trust me," he said.
Mira tilted her head slightly.
"I just met you."
Why was HE being so trusting? It didn't make any sense.
That seemed to make it worse.
"That doesn't matter," he said.
Mira studied him for a second longer, something clicking into place.
Oh.
This wasn't about space.
Or comfort.
Or even the bed.
This was normal to him.
Mira let out a small breath, her arms loosening slightly.
"Okay," she said, quieter now. "I think we're having two different conversations."
"I'm not saying you'd let something happen," she continued. "I'm saying I don't share sleeping space with someone I just met."
Another pause.
Bram frowned slightly.
That part, at least, he understood.
But he didn't agree.
"You'd be safer."
"You'd rest better."
"Probably NOT."
Another pause.
"…still no," she said.
"…you think I'm weak," he said.
Mira blinked.
"What?"
"If you don't stay where I can protect you," he went on, "then you don't think I can."
That caught her off guard.
"No," she said immediately. "That's not...no."
She uncrossed her arms, pushing off her hip slightly.
"That's not what this is at all."
Bram didn't interrupt.
Mira dragged a hand lightly through her hair, exhaling.
"This is just… boundaries, normal human boundaries," she said. "Personal space."
He watched her like she'd just said something that required translation.
Silence settled again, but it felt different now.
Bram's gaze shifted toward the back of the den once more.
"You don't have to stay there," he said.
Mira looked at him.
He gestured slightly, not toward the bed, but toward the space itself.