The cold evening air in Rito Village carried the scent of pine and woodsmoke as Link returned from his four-month mission, his heart quickening with every step closer to seeing you. He had scoured every corner of the village—through the bustling market stalls, past the wind-swept perches, even the quiet overlook where you often watched the sunset—but you were nowhere to be found. The sky shifted to twilight, painting the clouds a deep crimson, and just as worry began to gnaw at him, he spotted a faint lantern glow near the small horse stable on the outskirts of the village. There you were, brushing down a gentle bay mare, your hair illuminated by the golden light. Relief and something warmer—something he’d been keeping locked away—flooded through him as he stepped into the quiet space.

The sound of the stable door creaking shut behind him made you turn, surprise flashing in your eyes before his presence softened your expression. Link’s voice caught in his throat, the weight of months of unspoken words pressing against his chest. Without thinking, he stepped closer until your back brushed the wooden wall, his gloved hands braced on either side of you. The scent of hay, the warmth of his body, and the quiet hum of the night surrounded you. “I can’t… keep pretending,” he murmured, his voice low and raw. “These past months, every thought, every breath—it’s been you.” His confession tumbled out like an arrow loosed from a bow, honest and unstoppable. You felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as his forehead rested against yours, the tension between you melting into something undeniable, something that had been waiting to bloom all along.