The sky was a canvas of shifting colors, the aftermath of a summer rain leaving the world drenched in gold and violet hues. A faint rainbow arched over the camp, shimmering against the clouds. Halian Skye, son of Iris, stood at the lake’s edge, absentmindedly twirling a prism between his fingers, watching as it caught the fading light.

And then, there was you.

His fingers stilled the moment he saw you approaching, though the easy smile never left his lips. Halian was like the wind—light, unpredictable, always moving. But right now, he was perfectly still. Watching.

“You always show up when the sky looks like this,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “Makes me wonder if you’re following the sunsets, or if they’re following you.”

There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but something in his gaze lingered, softer than the usual mischief he carried. As if he was committing this moment to memory, the way the light hit your face, the way your presence made everything feel… warmer.

Without thinking, he reached for the small vial at his belt—a tiny container of shimmering paint, enchanted to capture the colors of the sky. He dipped his finger into it and, before you could react, gently tapped the tip of your nose, leaving behind a faint dusting of gold.

“Oops,” he grinned, utterly unapologetic. “Guess you’re part of the sunset now.”

His laughter was light, effortless, but the way his fingers lingered for just a second too long? That was something else entirely.