I couldn't sleep.
I lay on my bedroll for what felt like hours, staring into the darkness of the tent, listening to the faint sounds of the camp settling around me.
And yet... something felt wrong, but I didn't know what.
I shifted onto my side, then onto my back again, my chest tightening slightly. I didn't know why.
Every time I tried to focus on the feeling, it slipped away, leaving behind nothing but an uncomfortable restlessness.
Quietly, I pushed myself up and stepped out of the tent to get some fresh air.
The night air was cool against my skin, carrying the scent of smoke and pine. I took a slow breath, hoping it would clear my head.
Instead, without really thinking about it, my feet carried me forward—toward the fire... toward him.
He was sitting there alone, idly feeding the flames with another piece of wood. The firelight danced across his figure, outlining his broad shoulders, the calm way he moved.
When our eyes met, something inside me shifted.
I found myself walking closer, sitting beside him, and speaking about things I had been trying to suppress for a long time.
I didn't even remember how the conversation started. It was strange.
Thinking back on it... the feeling that something was wrong had started when he joined our party.
But I don't think that was the reason, because whenever he was near, I felt... comfortable.
As I spoke, my voice didn't tremble. My chest didn't ache like it usually did when those memories surfaced.
Instead, in the middle of my words, I felt it begin to ease—as if the guilt that had been consuming me every day had suddenly been lifted from my shoulders.
That familiar weight, the one that gnawed at me every single day... It vanished. Just like that.
I lifted my head instinctively—and I saw... Red?
For a split second, I thought his eyes were red... dark red.
I focused harder, my gaze locking onto his. Then I shook my head slightly. It was just the firelight.
Just reflections of fire in his dark eyes. Yet... I couldn't help staring. His eyes were pitch black. Deep—darker than the night around us.
They were beautiful... and somehow soothing.
I didn't notice when it happened—my thigh was pressed against his. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of our clothes.
Even so, I didn't pull away. Instead, I found myself leaning closer… my face drifting nearer without realizing it. My eyes locked with his as my thoughts slowed to a quiet hum.
I could feel his warm breath hitting my lips, my heartbeat quickening, and my temperature rising.
Then, just as I was about to do something I shouldn't have done—
Rustle.
The sound of rustling from the tents behind them echoed in their ears.
Both of them froze.
Kyle's gaze shifted first, sharp and alert, while Alara instinctively pulled back, her breath hitching.
He glanced over, seeing Weston emerging from the men's tent, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
"Oh?" Weston murmured, noticing Alara's presence beside Kyle. "Couldn't sleep, Alara?"
Alara blinked, seeming to come back to herself. She glanced at Kyle, a faint blush on her cheeks, before turning to Weston.
"I... I was just talking to Kyle about the mission."
Weston nodded slowly, stretching his arms above his head. "I understand. It's a lot to take on."
He glanced between the two of them, sensing a strange tension in the air. But he simply shrugged.
"I'm going to relieve myself, then head back to bed. Wake me in an hour for my watch," he said with a yawn, walking away towards the bushes.
Silence fell between them once again, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
`Couldn't you find another time to do it, you son of a—!` Kyle cursed internally.
Alara stood up abruptly.
"I-I should go back," she said quickly, avoiding Kyle's eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her heart still pounding in her chest. "It's... late."
Before he could respond, she turned and hurried back toward the women's tent, disappearing inside without looking back.
Kyle watched her go in silence.
The moment the tent flap closed, his expression darkened.
`...Fucking Weston.`
---
Morning light filtered through the tent as Kyle stepped out of it, stretching his arms as the chill of night finally faded.
The camp was already stirring with activity.
Weston was adjusting the straps on the horses, humming softly to himself, while Mira stood nearby, tightening her cloak and yawning dramatically.
"Morning~" Mira greeted lazily when she spotted Kyle. "You're up early."
Weston chuckled. "You did a fine job on watch. I slept like a rock."
Kyle gave him a flat look for half a second—then smiled faintly. "Glad to hear it."
Mira grinned, completely oblivious. "We'll be moving soon. Alara wants us on the road early today."
As if summoned by her name, Alara emerged from the tent shortly after—fully armored. Her cheeks flushed slightly and she looked away when she noticed Kyle.
She moved straight to the supplies, checking the bags and giving quiet instructions without meeting his gaze again.
Kyle noticed immediately.
He leaned casually against the wagon and summoned her status screen.
[Name: Alara]
[Strength: 39 | Intelligence: 19 | Endurance: 29 | Agility: 28 | Magic: 0]
[Affection: 16%]
Kyle raised an eyebrow. `That jumped more than I expected.`
He glanced back at her.
Alara stiffened subtly, as if she could feel his eyes on her, then shifted position to put the wagon between them.
`Avoiding me already, huh?` Kyle smirked. `That's fine.`
He dismissed the status window and stepped forward as the group finished preparing the horses.
"Ready when you are, leader," he said calmly.
Alara nodded without looking at him. "Let's move now."
The carriage rolled forward soon after, leaving the campsite behind as the road stretched ahead of them.
Kyle settled into his seat, watching Alara from the corner of his eye as the wheels began to turn.