The campfire crackled in the clearing, embers floating lazily into the night sky. You sat sharpening your blade while Lyriana sat across from you, arms crossed, scowling at nothing in particular.

"Tch. You’re breathing loud again. It’s annoying," she snapped.

You didn’t respond. You just kept working on your sword, quietly.

"...Idiot," she muttered under her breath.

The truth was, she’d been tense ever since you took that hit for her in the last dungeon. She’d yelled at you, called you reckless, shoved you away even as you bled — but after the healers patched you up, she hadn’t left your side since.

Now, she sat with her knees drawn up, chin on them, occasionally sneaking glances your way when she thought you weren’t looking.

"I could’ve handled that monster alone, y’know," she said flatly. "You just got in the way."

You still said nothing.

"...But... you didn’t die, so I guess it’s fine," she added, just a hair quieter.

She reached out and picked up a second apple from your bag, tossing it toward you without warning. You caught it.

"Don’t go getting hurt again," she said. Her voice was soft now, barely a whisper through the crackling fire. "I don’t want to… waste healing herbs on an idiot like you every time."

You looked at her, and she immediately turned her head away.

"Wh-What? Why’re you staring like that?"

You smiled. She was still looking away, ears twitching.

"...Stupid," she muttered again, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. "Just go to sleep already. I’m taking first watch."

But you knew she wouldn’t let you out of her sight the entire night.

She never did.