Romance?

Kairo woke before sunrise, though he'd slept under the stars only hours ago. The river's gentle lap had lulled him into a deep rest, but now the first pale fingers of dawn crept over the horizon, and he stretched out on the warm boulder where he'd fallen asleep.

Lyna stirred beside him, her silver hair fanning across the stone like moonlight. She yawned, then glanced at him with sleepy warmth. "Morning, sleepyhead."

He grinned. "You woke first."

She propped herself on an elbow, blinking at the sky. "I wanted to see it again. It felt… peaceful."

"Peaceful," he echoed, kicking his legs into the cool water. He watched ripples spiral outward. "It's a break from everything."

She laughed softly and dipped her toes in. "Until the next monster shows up."

He splashed her foot. "Then we'll just beat it together."

Their mood turned playful in an instant. Water flew, laughter echoed off distant cliffs, and for a while they were just two friends—no curses, no broken bones, no prophecy.

After a breakfast of steamed fish and wild berries, they walked upstream along a narrow path lined by twisted bamboo. Sunlight broke through in golden beams, illuminating petals that drifted from a lone flowering tree.

Lyna paused to pluck one. Kairo caught up and brushed another from the branch into her hair. She turned with mock indignation. "Seriously?"

He shrugged. "You look good."

Her cheeks tinting rose, she shoved him lightly. "You're such a—"

He cut her off with a grin and a wink. "—villainous flatterer."

She rolled her eyes but didn't remove the blossom.

They carried on in companionable silence, the only sounds their footsteps and the murmur of the river. Every so often, Lyna would steal glances at him at the way his jaw tensed when he thought, or the way his eyes softened if she caught him watching her.

Eventually they reached a sunlit clearing by a fallen archway of stone. Ancient carvings hinted at some forgotten temple. At its center, a shallow pool reflected the sky like a mirror.

Lyna knelt by the water and traced the patterns of algae. "Imagine the ceremonies that happened here," she murmured.

Kairo joined her at the edge. "They must have believed in hope."

She smiled at him—a gentle, luminous thing. "Hope's a stubborn promise."

He looked into her eyes, saw a flicker of something unguarded, and his chest clenched. "Lyna…"

She stiffened, and he feared he'd said too much. She laid a hand on his arm. "What is it?"

His heart hammered; he swallowed. "I… I care about you. More than I've ever cared about anything."

She stared at him, breath caught. Then she laughed—softly, almost shaking, and hid her face. "Well, look at you, inside your villain arc."

He laughed too, relief washing through him. "Fine. I'm a soft villain."

She peeked up through lashes. "A soft villain is still a villain."

He stepped closer. "Then can I be the softest?"

Her breath hitched. She tried to step back but stumbled—and he caught her by the shoulders, steadying her. Their faces hovered inches apart, the world narrowing to her breath, his pulse.

She whispered, "Do you… mean it?"

He nodded. "I've never meant anything more."

She closed her eyes, heart racing. His hand brushed a damp lock of hair away, thumb trembling. "Show me," she said.

He dipped his fingers to her lips, brushed her lower lip once, twice—drawing a shuddered breath. Then he leaned in fully, pressing his mouth to hers. It was gentle, exploratory at first; then everything in him opened, and he kissed her with the weight of every unspoken promise.

When they finally parted, she pressed her forehead against his. "Idiot," she breathed. "Why'd you have to do that here?"

He grinned, resting his nose against hers. "Because I had to do it now."

She laughed, a bright tear in her eye. "Now I'll never forget."

They spent the rest of the morning sitting in that clearing fingers intertwined, lips brushing in shy smiles, sharing their dreams in whispers. He told her about the lullabies he used to hum before he ever knew of curses; she spoke of the paintings she'd sketch under the old temple roof if she ever learned peace again.

As the sun climbed high, they returned to the riverbank. Lyna waded in and beckoned him to join. He hesitated—memories of battle flashing behind his eyes but she only laughed, splashed water at him, and he jumped in fully. They chased each other through the cool depths, shrieking and breathing easy, until exhaustion pulled them onto the shore.

They lay on their backs, side by side, water dripping from their hair onto the grass. Kairo turned his head to see Lyna closing her eyes, face serene. He reached out and stroked her cheek. Above them, a crow cawed—out of place, sinister—and the wind stilled.

He sat up, alarm flaring, and saw a single black feather drifting down. Lyna opened her eyes, saw it, and froze.

"Not again," she whispered.

Kairo rose, cloak swirling as he scanned the trees. A masked scout stepped into view, its dark eyes mapping their forms. It tilted its head, then vanished before they could react.

Lyna sat up, trembling. "They're watching."

He knelt beside her, pulling her close in a protective hug. "They're warning us."

She pressed her face into his shoulder. "What do we do?"

He held her tight. "We enjoy today. Tomorrow, we'll fight whatever comes."

Her arms tightened around him. "I'm scared."

He tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes. "Me too. But as long as we're together…" He paused, swallowed. "Nothing else matters."

She searched his face, tears gleaming. "Then promise me…"

He leaned forward. "I promise."

She closed the distance again, kissing him softly this time no hesitation, no doubts, just fierce devotion.

When they broke apart, dusk was painting the sky in bruised purples and reds. They gathered their things in silence, linked hands, and walked back along the bamboo path side by side, ready for whatever night might bring, fortified by love and a day that refused to end.

**Author's Note:**

Thank you for reading this chapter. I understand that it may not be perfect, and if certain moments didn't fully deliver the emotion or impact you were hoping for, I truly appreciate your patience. I'm continuously working to grow and improve my writing — to make each chapter feel more immersive, more emotional, and more real.

Your support means everything, and I promise to keep refining the story until every scene connects the way it should.