Chapter 39: Lysander, you smell
The medical facility's vast corridors stretched into shadow as Lysander lingered by the door, his tired gaze softening at Brynhild's teasing words. "You smell," she had said, her nose scrunching and brows furrowing in that familiar mix of affection and disapproval.
The bluntness caught him off guard, especially because they were just seeing each other after that scre he received, he tried to hold it in but he couldn't and a weary laugh escaped his lips, the sound rough but genuine, cutting through the tension that had gripped him for hours.
"I love you too," he replied, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "I need to wash off first, but I just came to see you. Rita said you were awake, and I couldn't wait." His voice carried a warmth that belied his filthy state, his tunic crusted with Orion's blood, his hands still stained from the night's battle against the Trihydra venom.
