The hot springs were quiet.

  The sun had sunk low, casting gold and rose across the water.

  Steam coiled lazily above the surface, soft and slow, like breath.

  Everything smelled faintly of stone, wild herbs, and something almost sweet beneath the sulfur.

  For once, nothing was chasing them.

  No fire.

  No fear.

  No prophecy.

  Just warmth.

  Astrid couldn’t help herself — she stood and rummaged through her pack.

  "Don’t look for a second, okay?"

  Kurai blinked at her. "What? Why? What are you doing?"

  "Look away!" she snapped, waving a hand.

  He obediently turned, head snapping away like she'd fired a gunshot.

  Astrid stripped down to her undergarments and pulled on her oversized anime tee — the one that still smelled faintly of home. Of herself.

  She eased into the water with a sigh, sinking low until only her shoulders broke the surface.

  "Oh my god," she groaned. "Worth every creepy forest and death threat."

  Kurai sat at the edge, one arm resting casually on his knee, watching the steam but not moving closer.

  "You really got in," he said, sounding a little surprised.

  "What, you’re not?" she teased, floating lazily.

  He shrugged. "I’m fine here."

  Astrid arched an eyebrow.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "What, scared you’ll melt? Or just shy about stripping down in front of a fair maiden?"

  The faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth — almost a smile.

  But he didn’t budge.

  "Kurai," she said, voice softening.

  He didn’t look at her.

  "It’s not the water," he said finally. "It’s something I usually hide."

  Astrid blinked.

  "Oh."

  He shifted awkwardly.

  "It’s easier. If people don’t see it."

  "You don’t have to hide around me," she said — gently, without pushing.

  That made him look at her — really look — searching for the mockery, the sarcasm.

  He found none.

  Slowly, he peeled off his boots, set aside his coat, and slid into the water.

  A sleek, scaled black tail uncoiled behind him, moving through the water with an effortless grace — a living shadow.

  Astrid didn’t flinch.

  Didn’t stare.

  She just smiled, scooting closer so they were side by side.

  "That’s why you didn’t want to give me your coat," she murmured.

  He let out a small breath. "Yeah."

  He didn’t elaborate.

  He didn’t have to.

  ---

  They sat in silence for a while.

  The water lapped gently against the stones.

  Steam drifted upward, painting the world in soft, lazy spirals.

  Astrid shifted, drawing in a breath.

  "Hey..." she started, voice wobbling.

  Kurai glanced over — immediately alert.

  "I’ve been... kind of harsh. Pushy. I know that," she said.

  Her words tumbled too fast, tripping over each other.

  "I’m sorry."

  Kurai opened his mouth — but she kept going.

  "I didn’t mean to be," she said, voice rising with the rush of it. "I just— I’ve had a lot happen. And when I see you struggling, I want to help. But you don’t let me, and it frustrates me, and I hate that about myself too. I feel like I just ruin shit. Like I’m just... too much."

  She laughed — brittle, hollow — the kind of laugh that tried to bury how badly it hurt.

  Kurai’s throat tightened.

  He didn’t know how to hold this much honesty.

  But he wanted to try.

  "Astrid—" he said quietly.

  But she barrelled on, needing to get it out before she broke apart completely.

  "I just— I don’t want you to leave," she whispered.

  "Or hate me. I’m scared I’m just making it worse. That I’m not helping at all."

  She hunched her shoulders, curling inward.

  "Sorry," she muttered. "That was a lot. You don’t have to say anything."

  Kurai shifted closer, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face — wiping away a tear she hadn’t even noticed.

  "Don’t apologize," he said — rough, but so gentle it cracked her wide open.

  Astrid dropped her head, cheeks burning, the weight of everything she'd tried to hold together crumbling.

  She sagged deeper into the water, feeling it pull at her limbs.

  But Kurai didn’t let her drown in it.

  He hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face toward him.

  "You don’t always have to be strong," he said, voice barely more than a rasp.

  "I’m sorry I made you think you had to be."

  Something inside her broke — but it wasn’t a bad break.

  It was the kind that let the light in.

  ---

  She didn’t want to read too much into it.

  Didn’t want to admit how much she needed this.

  But she leaned into him anyway.

  And he let her.

  He wrapped his arms around her, steady and warm.

  No expectations.

  No demands.

  Just there.

  For a long time, they stayed like that.

  The water lapped gently.

  The steam blurred the world.

  Beyond the springs, the Council, the prophecy, the fight still waited.

  But not right now.

  Right now, there was just the two of them.

  Astrid sagged against him, feeling the weight of fear, guilt, and impossible choices crash over her.

  She didn’t even know what she was feeling anymore.

  Only that she wasn’t carrying it alone.

  And for the first time in a long time...

  She wasn’t afraid.

  Not of him.

  Not of the future.

  Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to be anything other than herself tonight.

  She closed her eyes, breathing in the warm air, the faint trace of wild herbs, the slow, steady heartbeat under her ear.

  Later, she would remember this:

  The way the water cradled her.

  The way the world softened.

  The way she finally, finally let herself fall.

  The world could burn later. For now, she just wanted to breathe