The living room was bathed in the faint orange of the setting sun, light spilling through the curtains and pooling across the wooden floor. Dust drifted lazily in the glow, each mote moving like it had nowhere else to be.
Belle and I sat together on the sofa, our shoulders barely touching. Neither of us spoke. We didn't need to. The air between us felt heavy, filled with all the things that didn't need to be said.
Sacha was curled up across our laps, fast asleep, her small chest rising and falling with steady rhythm. Every now and then her tail flicked, and a soft rumble escaped her throat — a tiny, contented purr that made the corners of my mouth lift just a little.
It was strange, sitting there. For the first time in months, there was no training, no pain, no exhaustion pressing down on me. Just warmth. Just… this.
Then Belle's voice broke the quiet.
