Sparks of Closeness

The early evening sky stretched vast and quiet above the orchard settlement, where battered walls, watchtower silhouettes, and the gentle sway of farmland rows all bore silent witness to another day steeped in tension. Though infiltration rumors remained thick in the orchard air—fueled by minor theft and the unexpected traveler who claimed to have parted ways with Jace's band—life carried on. Orchard workers wrapped up tasks in the re-planted fields, Tamsin's watchers did one last perimeter round, and Harriet's group turned in, subdued by the day's swirl of suspicions.

The orchard donkey, ever a steady fixture, dozed near its small stable. Lanterns glowed around the courtyard, orchard staff quietly recapping the day's infiltration checks. The orchard's hush took on a soft warmth in the twilight, as though offering a fragile reprieve from the fear that had haunted them since Jace and Ellie's repeated betrayals. In the midst of this calm, Leila and Kai found themselves lingering after council sessions ended, drawn to the orchard's starlit edge.

The council sessions that day had been grueling—discussions about infiltration threats, how to screen the newcomer named Luca, and the possibility that Jace's cunning band might strike again. By nightfall, orchard watchers had settled into their rotating shifts, Harriet's group retreated to assigned quarters, and Tamsin's faction combed storerooms for any sign of infiltration or sabotage. Leila, her nerves worn thin from the constant vigilance, slipped away from the courtyard's busy circle of torches. She walked toward a less-traveled corner near the orchard fence, where the farmland sloped gently beneath the stars.

She stopped, arms folded, inhaling the orchard's night air. It carried the faint scent of soil and the donkey's feed, an odd but soothing mix. The watchtower overhead loomed half in shadow, orchard watchers occasionally passing on its walkway. The donkey's soft bray drifted from the stable, reminding her of the orchard's persistent normalcy.

Footsteps behind her—quiet, measured. She stiffened, turning to see Kai, his expression a careful mix of curiosity and concern. The orchard staff had mostly retired, leaving the edges of the orchard calm but for watchers posted every so often. She exhaled slowly, not entirely surprised he'd sought her out.

"I thought you might be here," he said, voice low to avoid carrying across the orchard. "You left the council meeting quickly after all the infiltration talk."

Leila let her gaze drift to the farmland horizon, the black silhouette of the orchard donkey's stable to one side. "Yes. I needed some air." She paused, glancing at him. "I'm still… uneasy about it all."

He nodded, stepping near but giving her space. "Me too," he admitted. "The orchard can't shake infiltration fears. And with Luca's revelations about Ellie's blackmail approach—well, it hits close."

A hush fell, orchard watchers' distant murmurs blending with the donkey's occasional snort. Moonlight cast shifting patterns on the orchard fence. She swallowed, the swirl of old heartbreak stirring as she recalled how trust once proved fatal. "Kai, I—" She hesitated, mind flicking to the orchard donkey's bray earlier, the watchers' suspicious stares, the heaviness in her chest. Why do I still let Jace's betrayal shape me so strongly?

She drew a shaky breath, choosing her words with caution. "I… can't stop this gnawing fear that any love or trust might replicate Jace's pattern. I let him in once—trusted him completely. He turned on me, orchestrated my death." Her voice caught, orchard donkey shifting in the distance as if eavesdropping. "It cost me everything, Kai."

His features softened with empathy, orchard watchers faintly visible at the orchard fence, lantern light flickering. "I know," he murmured, tone gentle. "That wound runs deep. You've carried it alone for so long."

She exhaled, eyes flicking to the orchard donkey's stable. "Even now, infiltration threats or sabotage swirl, new faces show up, and I wonder—will they do the same Jace did? Or if I let someone close…" She trailed off, swallowing the painful memory. "I keep seeing the betrayal, feeling the moment he shoved me to the undead."

Kai's gaze held a quiet steadiness that both soothed and frightened her. "You're not wrong to be cautious. But Jace's pattern isn't everyone's. Not every love or trust is a betrayal waiting to happen."

Her heart pounded, orchard watchers' silhouettes on the watchtower, the orchard donkey letting out a subdued bray as if sensing her turmoil. She forced her voice steady, though tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "I just can't shake it… that fear. If I rely on someone again, they might do the same. And infiltration is so easy in a world this broken."

Kai stepped closer, orchard donkey's soft bray floating through the orchard hush. "Leila," he said quietly, his voice laced with understanding. "You've built this orchard settlement into something stronger than infiltration. You lead watchers, farmland expansions, alliances. You overcame sabotage more than once. You died once, yes, but here you stand—alive, forging forward."

She let his words sink in, orchard donkey's occasional huff in the background. Her chest felt tight, tears threatening, but she held them back. "I'm not naive enough to forget infiltration can unravel us," she murmured, voice quivering. "I see Jace's face in every new threat, hear Ellie's cunning in every rumor."

Kai's expression gentled. "I know. I won't pretend infiltration risk is gone. But not everyone is Jace. Some truly want to stand by you—and by the orchard. I do. You can let people in a little without ignoring caution."

A wave of conflicting emotion coursed through her, orchard watchers faintly calling shift changes on the orchard walls. She breathed raggedly, orchard donkey's stable close enough for her to hear it shuffle. "I'm… trying," she whispered. "But it's a slow burn. I can't just fling open the gates of my heart after what Jace did."

He nodded, orchard donkey's quiet presence oddly comforting. "I understand. I'll wait as long as you need." He paused, orchard watchers on a watchtower overhead, orchard staff presumably asleep or resting. "If it helps, I'm not going anywhere."

They stood there in the moonlight, orchard donkey out of sight behind a stable wall, orchard watchers patrolling, the orchard fence framing them in pale shadows. The tension crackled in the hush—an almost magnetic pull between them, born of shared battles and mutual trust. She felt the swirl of longing, fear, heartbreak, all at war within her chest.

Her breath caught as he shifted closer, eyes locked on hers. Gently, he lifted a hand, as though to place it on her arm or near her hand. She didn't move away, not immediately. A breathless moment passed, orchard donkey letting out a soft huff from the stable, watchers' footsteps echoing on the orchard walls. She allowed the corners of her mouth to quirk in a fragile near-smile.

But then, the memory of infiltration nightmares, sabotage attempts, the day Jace led her to the undead—it all flared in her mind. Her heart pounded, terror spiking that letting Kai in might replicate Jace's betrayal. She inhaled sharply, stepping back just enough to break the near-contact of their hands. The orchard donkey's distant bray punctuated the tension.

He read the retreat in her movement, orchard donkey's stable behind him. Gaze still soft, he withdrew his hand slowly, no pushiness or disappointment—just acceptance. She forced her chest to still, orchard watchers passing overhead, infiltration checks continuing. "I… can't," she managed in a hushed tone. "Not yet."

He nodded, orchard donkey's stable to one side, orchard watchers to the other. "I understand," he said quietly, voice unwavering. "It's okay. I'll be here, however slowly you need."

Silence enveloped them in the orchard's twilight, the orchard donkey dozing beyond the stable, watchers continuing their infiltration patrols. For a moment, they simply stood, breathing the orchard's night air. She felt her heartbeat gradually slow, the swirl of old heartbreak receding. His presence offered a warmth she wanted but feared, infiltration paranoia pressing at the edges.

Finally, Leila cleared her throat, orchard donkey rustling near its feed trough. "Thank you," she whispered, voice a bit unsteady. "For… understanding."

He gave a small, gentle smile, orchard watchers' torches flickering behind him. "Always," he said. Another hush lingered before she mustered a nod and turned away, orchard watchers half-saluting as she walked by. Kai remained, gazing at the orchard fence, orchard donkey's soft bray echoing in the background.