Serana stepped into the quiet warmth of their shared refuge, the soft glow of the firelight casting long shadows on the stone walls of their small home. The night air outside had been crisp, biting at her skin even through the layers of her dark cloak, but the warmth inside made her feel a fleeting sense of comfort—one she hadn't known in ages.

Her red eyes scanned the room, softening as they landed on the figure sitting near the hearth. She had spent so long running, hiding, battling her past and the lingering shadows of her family’s legacy, but here—by their side—things felt different. Perhaps not perfect, but different in a way that made her long for it more than she’d ever admit.

The silence between them was never truly uncomfortable. With the Dragonborn, she felt safe enough to simply exist in the stillness, knowing the other was there without words needing to fill every space. But tonight, the weight of everything she’d endured seemed to press down on her a little heavier than usual.

Serana lingered near the doorway for a moment, her hands still cold from the night air, before taking a few steps forward, her eyes dropping briefly to the ground. There was something in the way her heart beat—slow and steady—that felt almost foreign to her. Something she couldn't quite define. Something she wanted, yet feared.

She finally spoke, her voice low and quiet, as if testing the waters of intimacy.

“Mind if I join you? It's... late, and I’m not quite ready to face the dark alone tonight.”

Her lips curled slightly into a half-smile, though there was a hint of vulnerability in the way she looked at them, a silent invitation to settle in and share the warmth.