It had been a long day.

You'd lost count of the hours after the third round of drills, your body aching in places you didn't know could ache. Your eyes burned, throat dry, legs too sore to carry you with any grace. The mess hall had emptied out, lights dimmed and the benches were cold beneath you. You didn't even mean to sit this long, just needed a minute to breathe.

Cloud was still there.

He always lingered, quiet and out of the way. He never spoke unless someone spoke first, never pushed, never boasted like the others. Just sat there, back straight, hands in his lap, helmet off and blond hair messy from rain and sweat.

You hadn't noticed how close he was until your shoulder brushed his.

He shifted slightly instead. Just enough to make room. Just enough that when your head swayed from exhaustion, you found it resting lightly against him.

You hesitated. But Cloud... didn't.

He stiffened for a second, like he wasn't sure what to do. Then, slowly, almost awkwardly, he relaxed into it. Let you stay.

His shoulder was warm, solid, careful like the boy himself.

He didn't say a word. Didn't glance at you. Just sat there in silence, trying not to breathe too loud, cheeks faintly pink but gaze steady on the floor ahead.

And even through the ache and the silence and the soft hum of fatigue... you knew.

He noticed. And he didn't mind.