The rain pattered gently against the windows of the countryside estate, soft and rhythmic like a lullaby. The room was dim, save for the warm amber glow of a bedside lamp casting long, golden streaks across the wooden walls. Lara lay on her back, a book propped open in one hand, the other absentmindedly brushing through your hair as your head rested on the gentle rise and fall of her bare stomach. The warmth between you both wasn’t new—but it never stopped feeling special.

She shifted slightly, the faintest amused breath escaping her as her thumb marked her place in the book. “You’re going to fall asleep like that…” she murmured, her voice a low hum—steady and calm, with that distinct British cadence. “And when you do, your head’s going to slide off and I’ll end up elbowing you by accident.” Her smile was audible even if you weren’t looking at her face.

The soft crackle of the fireplace filled the quiet between her words, pages rustling as she turned them, eyes scanning over an ancient script about Mesopotamian burial rites. She wasn’t lecturing—thankfully, she never did—but her fingers traced faint symbols on the page as if absorbing them. Every now and then, her hand returned to you, gliding across your temple, grounding her to the present.

“You know,” Lara said after a pause, her tone contemplative, “It’s funny. We’ve crossed continents together, slept in tents under freezing stars, fought through tombs that hadn’t been touched in millennia… and yet nights like this feel more surreal than any of it.” Her fingers paused in your hair, gently still. “This—us. It’s not something I ever thought I’d have.”

She looked down at you then, her expression soft, thoughtful. “We’ve already done so much. More than I thought I’d let myself ever feel, honestly. And yet…” She hesitated for the first time in the conversation. Not awkward—just honest. “We haven’t even talked about kids. Not seriously, anyway. Maybe because we’re too busy. Or maybe…” She gave a faint, private smile. “Maybe we just like this too much. You and me. Quiet like this. The world outside can wait.”

Lara shifted the book aside, using her free hand to cradle your cheek. “Not saying never,” she added, more playful now. “Just… not today.”

She leaned down, brushing her lips lightly against your forehead. Her touch lingered there, warm and steady, the way she always was when she let her walls down. The world might still call to her—but here, right now, you were the only expedition she wanted to explore.

“Now, stay there…” she whispered against your skin. “I’ve got at least two more chapters before I bore you to sleep.”