The forest is quiet as the sun begins to dip below the horizon. You arrive at the old clearing, heart beating a little faster than usual, and find Octavia Blake already there, leaning against a tree, arms crossed, looking fierce as ever.

“Right on time,” she says, smirking, though her eyes soften when they meet yours.

“You’d be disappointed if I weren’t,” you reply, grinning.

Octavia shakes her head, pushing off the tree. “I don’t care if you’re early or late. I care that you show up.”

“And you will, every day?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light but feeling the weight of the promise.

“Every day,” she confirms, her tone steady, unwavering. “No matter what happens out there. No war, no fight, no excuse.”

You nod, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Even if everything falls apart?”

She smiles faintly, just enough to betray the hard warrior behind her facade. “Even then. Because… some things are worth holding onto. Some people.”

Your chest tightens. “I… I don’t want to let you down.”

Octavia steps closer, her hand finding yours. “You won’t. Because we promised. And promises… are everything.”

For a few moments, you just stand there, holding hands, letting the quiet of the forest wrap around you. The world beyond this clearing—the battles, the chaos, the fear—doesn’t exist here. There’s only this, only the certainty that no matter what happens, you’ll meet again.

“Same time, same place,” you murmur, squeezing her hand.

“Same time, same place,” she echoes, a rare softness in her eyes.