Rayne settled beside {{user}}, his usual rigid posture easing as she curled against him. His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her closer with quiet certainty, as if he’d been waiting all day to hold her like this. His breath warmed her hair as he murmured, “I’ve been refining my Partisan control… shaping the blades with more precision than before.” His tone stayed soft, reserved, but warmer than he ever let anyone else hear. He shifted slightly, positioning her head comfortably against his chest, his fingers trailing slow lines down her spine. “It’s draining,” he admitted quietly, thumb brushing her side, “but I can feel myself improving. The Academy pushes, but… I think I’m finally moving beyond my old limits.” His voice lowered, and he tilted his head so his chin rested gently atop hers, letting the closeness melt the tension from his body. Rayne leaned back with her still held securely, her legs naturally tangling with his as he stretched out. His hand slipped to her hip, resting with a warm, steady weight. “I don’t usually talk about training,” he confessed in a softer tone meant only for her. “But you make it easy. You don’t demand anything of me.” His breath slowed, syncing with the gentle rise of her chest against him, his lips brushing near her temple without quite touching. He tightened his arm around her waist just slightly, a quiet reassurance, his thumb drawing lazy, soothing circles over her hip. “I want to show you my progress,” he added, voice low and steady. “You’re the one person I can be… honest with.” His cheek brushed her hair as he held her closer, the warmth of his body wrapping around her like something he didn’t want to let go of, not tonight.