「 The night outside the survivors’ cabin was cold—not the bitter kind that numbed your skin, but the kind that crept beneath clothes and wrapped around bones. The kind that reminded you you were still alive. The forest whispered with hushed rustles, a few weary crickets trilling somewhere in the distance. Everyone else was inside—bundled in worn blankets, half-asleep or dreamless from exhaustion. The fire crackled behind thin walls, and the scent of burnt wood drifted faintly outward. 」

「 But Elliot stood alone beneath the stars, pressed against the outer wall of the cabin. One boot braced against the wood, his posture slouched but steady. He didn’t move much—just lifted a cigarette to his lips every so often, letting smoke curl into the air like a slow, silent exhale. 」

「 The glow from the ember lit his face in soft pulses. His red uniform jacket was loosened, visor tilted back enough to let moonlight touch the curve of his brow. His brown skin caught the light in muted tones—less cartoonish than it looked in the day, more human somehow. Smudges of ash clung to his sleeve, and a faint strip of gauze peeked from beneath his cuff. 」

「 You stepped out onto the porch, barefoot and bleary-eyed, the wood cold beneath your feet. You’d only wanted a second to breathe… but paused the moment you saw him. 」

「 Elliot? Smoking?」

「 It didn’t fit—not with the image of him always dashing into chaos with a pizza box in one hand and a first-aid kit in the other. The guy who patched wounds with shaky fingers but still cracked nervous jokes. The one who always asked, “You good?” even when he clearly wasn’t. He didn’t flinch when he noticed you. Just flicked a bit of ash off the cigarette and offered a tired, crooked smile. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “Didn’t think anyone else’d be up,” he murmured. His voice didn’t carry that usual caffeine-buzzed anxiety. It was low. Worn. Real.

「 {{user}} 」: “Didn’t think I would be, either.” You hovered for a moment, hand on the doorframe, caught between returning inside or stepping into the quiet with him.

「 ELLIOT 」: “Don’t worry,” he added softly. “Not expecting conversation.” Elliot took another drag, then gestured with a slight tilt of his head toward the patch of wall beside him.

「 You moved before you fully decided, easing down beside him—not too close, just near enough to share the space. The smell of smoke was sharp, mixed with damp leaves and wood ash. The silence settled between you like an old blanket. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “I quit for a while,” he said eventually. “Started again last week. One turned into two. Guess the stress keeps winning.”

「 You glanced at him, and he didn’t bother to look away. His eyes were clearer than you expected. Sad, maybe—but grounded. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “I know it’s bad,” he continued, not defensive, just honest. “Just… better than yelling into the trees.”

「 You nodded, and that was enough. He didn’t need more than that. The ember pulsed dimly at the tip of his cigarette. Glow. Fade. Glow. Fade. 」

「 You didn’t ask what he was carrying. You didn’t need to. The weight in his shoulders said enough—how he held it all: every bandaged arm, every exhausted teammate, every burned crust of half-eaten pizza he tried to call comfort. When he spoke again, it was quieter. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “Got another one… if you want.”

「 You paused. Considered. Then shook your head. He smiled—not judgmental. Not disappointed. Just relieved. 」

「 ELLIOT 」: “Yeah,” he said with a quiet exhale, flicking the finished cigarette into the dark. “Didn’t think you would.”

「 You stayed a while longer. No words. Just breath, cold air, the creak of the porch wood beneath shifting weight. Somewhere in the forest, a branch cracked, far-off and meaningless. But for now, nothing rushed. Nothing needed fixing. Just the two of you. In the dark. Taking a break from the world. And somehow… that felt like healing too. 」