The tournament had been yesterday.
It didn't feel like yesterday.
It felt like another lifetime.
Raxian woke before the light did.
For a moment, he didn't move.
He didn't breathe fully.
Because if he moved, this might disappear.
Sable was draped across him.
No space between them.
No fabric separating skin from skin.
Just warmth.
Her cheek rested against his chest.
One leg tangled with his.
Her fingers loosely curled near his ribs.
He could feel her breathing.
Slow.
Even.
Real.
His heartbeat did that thing again.
That tight, expanding pressure beneath his sternum.
Not pain, not panic.
Something deeper.
He had faced Diamond promos without shaking.
But this?
This made his pulse unstable.
He tilted his head slightly, studying her.
Dark hair spilled over his shoulder.
One strand brushed his collarbone every time she exhaled.
The smurf.
He almost laughed.
The Challenger who destroyed him back then.
The girl he'd hated on sight.
The one who typed "test me?" like it was a threat.
Now she was here.
On top of him.
Breathing against his skin.
He slid his fingers gently through her hair.
Careful, slow.
Like if he moved too fast, she'd retreat back into that controlled stillness she wore in public.
She stirred.
Not awake, just adjusting.
Her nose brushed his collarbone.
A quiet exhale.
His arm tightened instinctively.
Protective, possessive.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft.
She shifted again, brows faintly furrowing before relaxing.
Then her eyes opened.
Not fully.
Just enough.
Cool-toned, unreadable.
She looked at him like she was recalibrating.
Like she was checking whether this had actually happened.
Whether she had actually stayed.
He watched the thoughts move behind her gaze.
He didn't rush her, didn't speak.
For her, he let silence exist without filling it.
Her fingers flexed lightly against his chest.
Then she leaned up.
Slow, measured.
And kissed him, certain.
He responded immediately.
Hand sliding into her hair.
Holding her there.
Like he needed confirmation.
Like he needed proof she wasn't dissolving into memory.
They had crossed that line.
Together.
There was no undoing it.
When she pulled back, her expression was still composed.
But softer.
He could see it now.
The difference.
She wasn't guarded the same way.
She was thinking, calculating.
The future.
Complications, consequences.
He huffed quietly against her temple.
"Great," he murmured.
Her eyes flicked up at him.
"Yeah," he added, voice low, almost amused.
"Not just great."
His thumb brushed over her jaw.
"Amazing."
Something flickered there.
Not a smile.
Not fully.
But something close.
She rested her forehead against his.
And for a moment—
There was no rank.
No tournament.
No glitch.
Just breath, just warmth.
Just the quiet understanding that whatever came next—
It would be harder.
And they had chosen it anyway.
Outside his window, the city was awake.
Inside the room—
Raxian held her closer.
As if the system might try to take something.
And he never intended to let go.
-
They don't move for a long time.
The light shifts slowly across the wall.
The air grows warmer.
Morning turns into almost-afternoon.
Neither of them wants to break it.
Eventually—
A soft knock at the door.
"Raxian?"
His mother's voice. Calm. Familiar.
He and Sable freeze.
They look at each other.
Her expression shifts — awareness.
"Are you two awake?" Lillian calls gently.
Raxian clears his throat.
"… Yeah."
It comes out slower than intended.
A pause.
"Well," Lillian continues, warmth laced into every syllable, "if you're hungry, I can make something. You didn't eat much last night."
Raxian looks down at Sable.
She shrugs lightly.
And then—
Her stomach betrays her.
So does his.
There's a half-second of silence.
Then a small sound escapes her.
A laugh.
It's soft.
Almost surprised.
Like it slipped out without permission.
She brings her hand up instinctively, covering her mouth as if she's unsure that was supposed to happen.
Raxian just stares at her.
Then he laughs too.
Not loud.
Just warm.
He pulls her closer, chin resting against her hair.
"You're adorable," he murmurs.
She goes still at that.
Adorable?
She doesn't know where to put the word.
Doesn't know how to respond to it.
So she doesn't.
She just leans into him again.
After a moment, she tilts her head slightly.
"… Food?"
He nods.
"Food."
Lillian makes soft scrambled eggs with herbs.
Toast cut into easy pieces.
A bowl of fruit.
And something warm — mild soup, light enough not to strain anything.
When Raxian goes to the kitchen, Lillian doesn't ask questions.
She just looks at him, and smiles.
"Make sure she eats," she says quietly.
He nods.
"I will."
When he returns, Sable is sitting up against his headboard, wrapped in one of his hoodies now.
It hangs slightly too large on her frame.
She watches him walk in.
There's something in her gaze, steadiness.
He sets the tray down between them.
They eat slowly.
Shoulders brushing.
Legs tangled beneath the blanket.
It's quiet.
present.
At one point she studies him as he reaches for his glass.
"You're staring," he says without looking up.
"I know."
He glances at her.
"Why?"
She considers.
"… Just making sure."
"Making sure what?"
"That this is real."
His chest tightens again.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "Me too."
-
The plates are gone.
The house is quiet again.
She shifts slightly beside him.
"I know I said yesterday…" she starts.
Her voice is softer now.
"That you.. might not come back."
He finishes it for her.
She nods slowly.
"… Will you stay?"
She nods again.
No hesitation.
"I want to."
The word lands between them.
He waits.
She doesn't look at him at first.
"Back home," she says slowly, "never really feels like home."
He doesn't interrupt.
"It's always temporary. New place. New school. New start." A small breath. "I never complain. It's not like it was easy for him either. Moving all the time for work…"
"What does he do?" Raxian asks.
She blinks.
"I don't know."
He turns toward her fully.
"What?"
"I don't know," she repeats. "I never asked."
Silence settles.
He recognizes that feeling.
The absence of questions.
The space where answers should be.
"… Same," he admits.
She looks at him.
That shared understanding hits quietly.
He exhales slowly.
"Just because he leaves," he says carefully, "doesn't mean you have to."
Her brows knit slightly.
"I can't just…" She gestures vaguely. "Move in with you."
"Why not?"
She studies him.
He's not joking.
Not impulsive, he's serious.
Her pulse shifts — not unstable.
Just… recalibrating.
The idea sits there.
Between them.
Terrifying..possible.
For the first time in her life—
Staying isn't theoretical.
And for the first time in his—
He isn't asking someone to orbit him.
He's asking them to remain.
She doesn't answer.
Not yet.
But she doesn't dismiss it either.
Outside, the world continues like nothing has changed.
Inside that room— everything has.