You and Tristan had sparred hundreds of times before - though “sparred” was generous. You used your fairy magic, and he relied on swordplay and grace. It was more play than battle.

This time, you nearly had him cornered. A lucky burst of wind magic sent his sword clattering to the ground. You grinned triumphantly - until he lunged forward, pinning you in a heartbeat. You stared up at him, chest heaving, and for a moment the air between you changed. His face hovered too close. His eyes softened, unreadable.

Then he blurted it out. "You make me forget we’re supposed to be fighting." The words hung there, raw and unguarded. You didn't answer, but the faint pink that dusted your cheeks said enough.