The trail down from Aurelis Peaks was gentler, but the long climb had left their legs stiff. Kaein adjusted his pack, glancing at Lior who was a few steps ahead, balancing effortlessly on a narrow ledge. The way he moved — confident, careful, aware — made Kaein's chest tighten in that subtle flutter he had stopped trying to name.
"Slow down, Lior," Kaein called, though his voice carried more amusement than command.
"I'm fine," Lior replied over his shoulder, grinning. "You're just… still tired from pretending to be all serious during the case."
Kaein scoffed, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Someone has to keep you grounded."
They laughed softly, the sound mingling with the whisper of wind through the pine. Moments like this, when the world was quiet and they moved together without obligation or expectation, were rare — the kind that anchored him more firmly than any evidence, any investigation.
Halfway down, they came across a small clearing. A flat stretch of rock overlooked the valley below, perfect for a short rest. Lior sank onto it, patting the space beside him. "Sit. Take it in. The stars won't be visible long if we rush."
Kaein joined him reluctantly, letting the pack slide from his shoulders. He watched Lior carefully, noticing the way the evening light caught in his hair, the subtle lines of concentration in his face slowly softening.
"Do you ever think about… everything we see?" Lior asked, voice quiet now, not teasing. "All the cases, the people… the messes we untangle?"
Kaein considered it. "All the time," he admitted. "It… it gets heavy. But moments like this, they remind me it's not just darkness."
Lior nodded, shoulders brushing slightly against his. "Yeah. Light, even if brief, matters."
They sat in silence for a while, letting the wind carry away the last of the day's warmth. Then, as night fully settled, the first stars appeared — pale pinpricks scattered across the deep blue sky. Lior leaned back on his hands, gazing upward.
"Ever notice how small we feel under the stars?" Lior murmured.
Kaein tilted his head, letting the soft glow reflect in his eyes. "Small… but part of something bigger. Somehow… comforting."
Lior smiled, just faintly, but it was enough to make Kaein's chest pulse in a quiet, familiar way. No words needed. The space between them held everything they couldn't say — care, trust, subtle tension.
"Think we can set up a little camp?" Lior asked after a pause, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Not for sleeping, just… a night under the stars. Some tea, some warmth."
Kaein hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. Why not."
They gathered small twigs and stones, creating a modest fire pit, the flames sputtering and catching, reflecting in their faces. Steam rose from mugs of tea, the aroma mingling with pine and night air. They sat close enough that shoulders brushed accidentally — and deliberately — but neither commented.
"Remember that ridiculous suspect from last week?" Lior asked, breaking the quiet, playful again.
Kaein laughed softly, shaking his head. "You mean the one who thought we'd fall for his fake alibi?"
Lior chuckled, eyes glinting in the firelight. "Yeah. Makes the rest of life feel… lighter."
They talked quietly after that, stories spilling, teasing remarks, small confessions about fears and hopes. At times, Kaein caught Lior watching him with a faint, unreadable expression — amusement? curiosity? care? — and it made him acutely aware of every heartbeat.
When the fire dwindled, and the sky deepened to navy, they lay on blankets, side by side, pointing out constellations and tracing shapes in the stars. Every laugh, every quiet word, every brush of hands carried weight, tension, comfort — undefined, yet undeniable.
"Ken," Lior murmured at one point, voice low. "I… I like this. Not the cases, not the chaos. This. Just… this."
Kaein turned toward him, letting the warmth of the fire and the night settle around them. "Me too," he admitted softly. No more explanation needed. It wasn't about labels. It was about presence, trust, and the subtle understanding that in this vast, chaotic world, some connections mattered more than anything else.
They stayed like that until the embers faded, until their tired limbs and calm minds made silence the only conversation necessary. And when they finally packed up to leave, the bond lingered — a quiet tether, unseen but unbroken, carrying them back down the trails, ready for whatever came next.