Nephis had no idea how much time had passed since Sunny's ridiculous act of revenge, but seriously... more than an hour of tickling? What was wrong with that idiot? Even as an Ascended, she had completely lost her voice. Her throat burned, her muscles ached, and her dignity... well, she wasn't quite sure which dark corner it had run off to.
She'd had enough. And not just because of the tickling —though that alone would've been enough. No, it was because Sunny was an insufferable, slippery rat. Every time she was about to get her revenge, he managed to slip away. Always. As if he enjoyed it. As if his reflexes were part of some predator instinct that only activated when it was her chasing him down.
And the worst part?
It worked.
"Damn it..." she muttered to herself. "Who the hell made me this tall?"
That was another curse. If she hadn't been so tall and long-limbed, she would've caught him by now. She'd gotten close more than once. But no —he always found a gap, a crack, an instant to escape.
But not this time.
This time, she had him.
She had thrown him to the ground with a quick, clean move and had blocked every possible escape route. After all, she was sitting squarely on his hips, straddling him and pinning both his wrists to the ground with firm hands. Her breathing was ragged, her muscles taut, but her eyes shone with clear determination.
She wasn't letting go.
Not for anything in the world.
She glared at him with a mock-anger expression: furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, lips pressed into a thin line. If she could see herself, she probably would've scared herself. But Sunny...
Sunny just laughed.
Not a mocking laugh, not a loud one.
A soft one. Quiet. Gentle.
And beautiful.
So painfully beautiful that Nephis felt time itself pause.
It wasn't like the polished laughter of nobles, nor the carefree giggles of Effie. It was real. Warm. Almost intimate. A strange, perfect melody. Accompanied by a genuine smile, those white, slightly sharp teeth peeking through, his eyes crinkled with an expression of pure serenity.
Calm.
It was a different kind of look.
Not the cynical, cold, sarcastic Sunny she was used to. This was another side. One she didn't see often.
And she wanted... to keep it.
To record it.
To remember it forever.
She stared at him, entranced, for so long that she didn't even realize what was happening. Only when it was too late did she notice her hands were no longer holding Sunny's wrists.
He had slipped free.
And yet... he didn't strike back.
No renewed revenge. No more tickles. No teasing quip.
Just a warm, gentle hand resting on the back of her head, fingers slipping into her silver hair with practiced ease. He didn't push, didn't pull. Just guided her —softly, tenderly.
And Nephis was pulled down.
Surprised, she offered no resistance.
Now, both of them lay on the ground. Nephis resting on Sunny's chest, so close she could hear his heartbeat. Their breaths were the only sound in the quiet night.
They didn't speak.
There was no need.
The heat of his body beneath hers, the way his chest rose and fell rhythmically... it was enough. It was a pause. A breath stolen from the storm. A moment of calm in the heart of a nightmare.
And even though her cheeks were flushed, and her pride a little bruised, Nephis didn't move.
Because in that moment, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
She allowed herself to close her eyes and relax, even with the sting of wounded pride still throbbing faintly in her chest. She was already planning how she'd get back at him... but not yet. She didn't want to ruin this. Not this warmth. Not this peace. Not this fleeting moment stolen from the chaos of her life.
If she could go back in time, she would thank that foolish version of herself —the one who cried in front of Sunny, the one who broke down because of what he meant to her. That version who had planned to confess her feelings only when everything was over.
When they were Saints.
When the Sovereigns were dead.
When the world was safe.
"What a stupid decision," she thought with a bittersweet smile. "If I'd waited... I would've missed this."
This warmth she had never known before. This sense of security and love that only existed in the dreams of her childhood —dreams where her family was still alive, where she wasn't alone. Dreams where someone held her the way Sunny held her now.
Shit.
What would've happened if neither of them had confessed?
Would they have missed out on all this?
On every laugh, every glance, every tender moment beside the fire?
She didn't want to imagine it.
Her mission still weighed heavy in her heart. Her vengeance, her duty, her impossible path —none of it had disappeared. But now... now there was something else.
A fool. A handsome one. A blessed idiot named Sunny.
"I think I went too far, Neph... I'll make it up to you later," Sunny's warm voice murmured near her ear, his breath cool against her skin. His tone was soft, rare, filled with affection and sincerity.
Nephis couldn't let it go unchallenged. Her pride demanded it. She had to keep the act going —at least for a little longer.
Still nestled against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she mumbled with a half-muffled voice:
"Idiot... don't think this counts as compensation."
Her voice was muffled, buried in his warmth, but the message was clear.
Sunny didn't respond immediately. Not with words.
What came next... was laughter.
That warm, honest, carefree laugh that made the world feel a little lighter. A sound she wanted to hear more often. One she hoped would always come because of her.
And then...
She felt his other hand —the one resting on her back— begin to move.
Softly.
Gently.
His fingers traced the curve of her spine as if trying to memorize it. Then moved up, to the ends of her hair. Those silver strands curled around his fingers, and he played with them —twisting and brushing, always careful.
Like they were made of glass.
Like they weren't the hair of an Ascended warrior... but something fragile. Precious.
And just like that...
Nephis forgave him.
Again.
She closed her eyes slowly, letting her breathing settle. The world around her blurred, wrapped in the warmth of Sunny's chest, in the rhythmic brushing of his breath and the slow beating of his heart. Her body no longer trembled from the cold or from the exhaustion of so much laughter—it swayed gently now in a sense of calm that felt as strange as it did comforting.
In that moment, Nephis was no longer the warrior marked by flames, nor the Ascended who bore the weight of an extinct clan. She wasn't the Immortal Flame. She was just a young woman with a racing heart, clinging to someone who had become her refuge. Her favorite shadow. Her companion.
Her lips moved barely, in a breath that held something delicate—like saying the words would give away a truth too intimate, too real.
"Sunny... I love you," she whispered, her voice soft, filled with a tenderness she rarely allowed herself to show.
There was no need for trumpets, no stage, no witnesses. It was simple. Honest. Powerful in what it meant. And at the same time, so vulnerable that her chest tightened the moment she let it out into the world.
For a moment, there was no answer.
Only the faint crackling of the dying fire, and the soft whistle of wind threading through the trees of the living island.
But then, she felt it.
Sunny's embrace grew stronger.
His arms closed around her more firmly—not harshly, but with a silent need. As if his body wanted to answer before his words could. As if he couldn't help but want to hold her, shield her, keep her close.
And just as her thoughts began to dissolve into the haze of sleep, she heard him.
"I love you too."
Sunny's voice.
It wasn't a reflex. It wasn't an empty reply. It was real.
It rang with emotion held back, raw sincerity. And if Nephis had opened her eyes in that moment, if she could have lifted her face, she would have seen the impossible: another smile. One meant only for her. Not one of mockery. Not one of triumph or mischief.
A smile that spoke of tenderness. Of fear. Of love.
And she, too... was smiling.
Not a small or fleeting one, but a true smile. Warm. Whole. The kind of smile that stays in the soul, not just on the lips.
Because, after all... Effie had been right.
A boyfriend who could only tell the truth was pretty useful