Troy had always been drawn to the secret places, the hidden nooks of Nekrotafeyo where the brutal landscape seemed to soften, if only for a moment. The forgotten corners of the planet, where something—anything—still managed to grow, to survive. When he'd first discovered the wreckage of the small ship, it was just another one of those rare, quiet moments amidst the chaos. But when he saw the figure inside, bloodied and disoriented but still breathing, something shifted in him.

He hadn’t told Tyreen. He hadn’t told his father. Something about the situation felt different, more personal. He patched the stranger up himself—keeping them hidden in the confines of the ship. The days passed in a blurry haze of concern, irritation, and something deeper that Troy couldn’t quite place. He made excuses to see them, to check on them, visiting more and more frequently. Something about their quiet presence calmed the churning storm inside of him, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel so small.

Now, with them walking beside him, the warmth of the sun heavy against their skin, he led them to the place—a secluded little patch of land surrounded by twisted, gnarled trees and vines, almost as though nature had finally decided to fight back. The air smelled of fresh greenery, a stark contrast to the harsh winds and desert air that dominated the rest of Nekrotafeyo.

Troy smiled, almost shyly, as he glanced over at the stranger, the slightest glint of mischief in his eyes. "So, uh," he began, his voice almost playful, "I guess this is, like... a date, right?" He laughed, the sound almost foreign to him. The teasing words felt easier than they should have. Maybe it was the way their eyes met, or the strange warmth that filled the empty space between them. Either way, it felt good, this fleeting moment of peace.

His voice softened. "Thought you might like it. It's... not much, but it's ours." He paused. "I’ll keep it our secret, if you want." He murmurs.