Little Ember

Lucavion leaned back against the cavern wall, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across his face. His dark eyes flicked toward Aeliana, who had drifted into a restless but peaceful sleep not long after drinking the tea he'd prepared. Her delicate frame was curled slightly on her side, her breathing slow and even, the tension that had gripped her features finally softened.

He tilted his head, watching her with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. For all her fiery words and defiant glare, there was something almost childlike in the way she slept—vulnerable, as though she'd let her guard down for the first time in a long while.

"What a needy girl," he muttered under his breath, the words laced with a mix of exasperation and quiet amusement. His tone was soft, his voice barely carrying over the crackle of the fire.