It had been almost a full month.
Leoriness had never seen his face.
She'd seen his hands—pale, strong. His voice—quiet, without edge. And his eyes slightly—blur and red but not sure yet sharp enough to cut.
That was enough to make her curious. Enough to make her stay close.
Elarion knew it. He wasn't blind.
He didn't ask why she stayed near the fire where he sat. Or why she followed even when he hunted, walking two steps behind him like some silent shadow.
That wasn't his problem.
Until tonight.
---
The fire crackled low. The smell of cooked fish and wild herbs drifted in the air.
Elarion plated the food quietly. Set it in front of her.
She took it with both hands like always—carefully, formally.
But tonight, instead of eating immediately... she spoke.
Her voice was no longer cracked or broken. It flowed clear and sure:
"Thank you, Elarion."
Elarion stilled. His gaze flicked up under the mask of his hood.
Leoriness met his eyes steadily now, silver gaze unwavering.
"Elarion," she repeated. "Are you kind to everyone? Has alot of other people seen your face?"
Her tone wasn't casual. It was deliberate.
Elarion answered after a pause, voice as calm as ever:
"I am not kind just real. And my face, not for anyone unnecessary."
Her fingers clenched lightly around the bowl. Her next words came quieter but firm:
"Yes, you are real but stay little far from others. Just in case."
There was a steady silence after that. Neither of them spoke as they ate, but the air between them had shifted slightly—a quiet pull, something unspoken lingering under the surface.
---
Later that night, as they walked along the riverside, Leoriness glanced up again.
"You know... even if you looked different," she said quietly. "It wouldn't matter to me."
Elarion stopped.
A flicker of memory stirred:
His past life.
A ruined face. Burned. Scarred beyond recognition.
Where others turned away in disgust, someone had once stayed. But that memory belonged to him alone. No one else knew. No one could.
He let the thought settle quietly.
Now, standing under moonlight, her voice was clearer than ever. No longer hesitant. No longer hiding.
"Why?" he asked evenly.
Leoriness stepped closer.
Her hand lifted to touch his sleeve lightly.
"Because what matters is here," she said simply, voice calm. "The way you are. Not just the way you look."
For once, Elarion didn't answer right away.
Smile , a small smile curvedd in his lips.
"Pretty "
"What?"
"Your cute cherry lips"
Elarion didn't knew what to say, he was confused.
"Uhnmmm.... Oh I see" he said not so sure.
Her fingers tightened on his sleeve.
"Mine.". Leoriness said suddenly catching him offguard.
Her voice dropped to a smaller, possessive murmur:
Elarion didn't move. His expression stayed cool, but his eyes lowered toward her grip.
That was dangerous. He should pull away.
But he didn't.
Instead, he answered quietly:
"That depends," he murmured. "if you can keep up, that is."
Her grip didn't loosen.
The quiet between them wasn't hesitation.
Her pale, blurred eyes stared only at him.
That quiet hunger wasn't fear.
It was something else entirely.
---
And beneath that steady moonlight, neither of them turned away.
---
One month later
The forest trail stretched under pale moonlight. Silver mist wrapped between the trees. There were no footsteps but Elarion's and Leoriness's, steady and quiet.
A month had passed since the monster was slain.
It was morning again.
The world had fallen silent again.
Elarion walked ahead, mask in place. Black steel with silver wings etched along the sides. From nose up, nothing was visible. Only the lower part of his face remained uncovered: pale skin, lips tinted red like frozen berries.
Leoriness walked a few steps behind, her eyes half-lowered.
She didn't speak. She couldn't speak.
But she watched.
Her gaze traced every quiet movement Elarion made: the way his gloved hand adjusted the sword on his back, the slight tilt of his head when he scanned the trees.
It shouldn't have felt like this.
In that basement or even before that, though her mind was distorted but she remembers.
She'd seen stronger men. Louder men. Ones who bragged and boasted about the monsters they had slain.
But Elarion... he didn't speak unless necessary. He didn't look at her too much, didn't stand too close. And somehow that only made her attention sharper.
Leoriness pressed her hand lightly against her chest, where the restless feeling wouldn't calm down.
Why does it bother me?
It wasn't love. It couldn't be. Love was weak, soft. This was... sharper.
Possession.
She couldn't explain it even to herself. She just knew: she hated the idea of anyone else standing where she stood now. Walking behind him. Watching the part of his face she could see.
Elarion slowed suddenly. His voice, low and calm, broke through her thoughts:
"Leoriness. Keep your focus. You keep looking at me."