Xavier lay on his back, staring up at the pale moon cutting through the gaps in the dead branches above. The air was cold now, carrying that damp forest smell—wet stone, ash, and something old. Their clothes were tossed over them like makeshift blankets, still warm from their bodies, and Reva's head rested against his chest, her breathing soft and slow.
For a long time, neither of them said anything. Just the whisper of leaves. The kind of silence that didn't ask to be broken. Then Reva tilted her head a little, her voice low and rough with exhaustion. "You know… this kinda reminds me of that night at your village."
Xavier glanced down at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah? The one where you almost got us caught because of your loud moans?"
She chuckled quietly. "That one too. But I meant before that—when we just lay outside, watching the stars. You had that same stupid look on your face."
