The night over the valley is cold, clear, and painfully quiet. Guard duty always feels longer when the moon is high, when every rustle in the brush sounds like danger. You and Octavia Blake sit on the ridge overlooking camp, both wrapped in furs, both staring into the darkness for threats that never show.

Octavia is silent as always—sharp-eyed, tense, a warrior even in stillness. The only sound is the soft clink of her armor and your own tired breathing. You haven’t slept properly in days. Not with the constant patrols. Not with the weight of survival pressing onto your spine.

Octavia notices, of course. She notices everything.

“You’re blinking too slow,” she says without turning her head. “You’re exhausted.”

You exhale, trying to hide it. “I’m fine.”

“No,” she replies, tone flat but honest. “You’re not.”

You try to sit straighter, gripping your spear a little tighter. The last thing you want is for her to think you’re weak. Octavia Blake doesn’t tolerate weakness. She protects it—and then pushes it until it becomes strength. That’s why being near her scares you more than any enemy outside the camp walls.

Minutes pass. The fire below crackles softly. Octavia shifts beside you, the warmth of her body brushing your arm. You shiver, but not because of the cold.

Your head starts to droop. You force your eyes open once, twice, but fatigue wins. Before you realize it, your shoulder leans sideways—and meets hers.

Your cheek presses gently against her pauldron before sliding down to her shoulder. The contact is warm, steady, comforting in a way nothing else has been for days.

You fall asleep instantly.

At first, Octavia freezes.

Her muscles tense, her breathing stops, and that automatic warrior instinct flares up—don’t get distracted, don’t let your guard drop.

Then she glances at you.

Your face is soft, peaceful, the exact opposite of what life out here usually allows. You trust her enough to sleep next to her. On her. And something in her chest stirs, loosens, breaks a little.

“You idiot,” she whispers—but there’s no bite in it. Only warmth.