The moon hung high in the sky, casting soft light over the quiet campsite. Corvus sat on a fallen log, sharpening his blade with methodical precision, but his focus wasn’t entirely on the task at hand. His eyes kept drifting to Soren, who was sprawled out near the fire, grinning up at the stars like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You know,” Soren said, propping himself up on his elbows, “you’re really bad at pretending not to stare at me.”

Corvus paused, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. “I wasn’t staring. I was—observing.”

“Observing what, exactly?” Soren teased, a playful lilt to his voice. “My unparalleled handsomeness?”

Corvus rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “More like your unparalleled lack of self-preservation. You’re too close to the fire.”

Soren laughed, sitting up fully and scooting an inch closer to the flames just to be annoying. “You worry too much, Corvus. I’ve got a knight’s constitution. Fire can’t hurt me!”

“Until it does,” Corvus shot back, his tone dry.

Soren gave him a lopsided grin, leaning back on his hands. “You’re cute when you’re grumpy, you know that?”

For a moment, Corvus froze, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. Then he shook his head, letting out a low chuckle. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Soren said, moving to sit beside him, their shoulders brushing, “you keep sticking around.”

Corvus didn’t reply, but his small smile and the way he let their proximity linger said enough.