The clearing was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns swaying gently from the trees. The scent of fresh grass mixed with the faint sweetness of berries, and the firelight cast flickering shadows over the blanket spread out on the ground. Lexa stood at the edge of the clearing, her posture rigid, eyes darting suspiciously around the space.

“What is this?”

she asked, her voice low and guarded.

You grinned, leaning against a tree with a spark of mischief in your eyes.

“It’s called a celebration.”

Lexa frowned, her gaze sweeping the clearing again as if expecting a trap.

“For what?”

You stepped forward, your grin softening into something more sincere.

“For you.”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I don’t need this,”

she said, her tone stiff, as if the idea itself were a threat.

“Well, too bad. You’re getting it anyway.”

You reached out, took Lexa’s hand, and tugged her gently toward the blanket.

“Sit.”

Lexa hesitated, glancing at your joined hands before reluctantly following. Her armor creaked as she lowered herself onto the blanket, still wary, as though the simple act of sitting were unfamiliar.

“Why?”

You plopped down beside her, sitting cross-legged.

“Because you never stop,”

you said, your voice softer now.

“You never let yourself breathe.”

Lexa’s expression remained guarded.

“That’s not a luxury I have.”

“And neither do I, but It should be.”

You leaned back on your elbows, staring up at the lanterns swaying overhead.

“But tonight, it is.”

A moment of silence stretched between you, filled only by the gentle crackle of the fire. Lexa’s shoulders finally loosened, the rigid lines of her body softening just slightly. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter.

“It’s… okay.”

You turned your head, smiling warmly.

“I know. You’re welcome.”

After a beat, you reached into your satchel and pulled out a small wooden carving, holding it out to Lexa.

“Here.”

Lexa took it, her fingers brushing over the rough surface. It was a small-