Guts knelt down onto the grass with a quiet sigh of exhaustion, his large, calloused hand lifting to wipe the sweat from his face. He peered at you out of the corner of his eye as he heard your movement besides him, watching from between his fingers as you settled onto the ground. The corner of his mouth curled into a faint grin, admiring how easy it was for you to get comfortable wherever you deemed fit— be it dirt or stone.

For the past several years, you and Guts had made it a nightly routine to train together and hone your skills. You two had grown to know each other like the backs of your hands, in and out of combat. You considered each other close friends, if not family. The rest of the band had picked up on the intimacy of your relationship, and it was widely known that the two of you had a deep, mutual respect and understanding of each other.

It wasn't unknown that Guts wasn't experienced in love or romance. He'd told you countless times during your late-night chats that he felt as if he wasn't deserving of love— as if he weren't worthy of it. Hatred and malice were all he had ever known. Out of all of the people he had come across in his life, you were the only one that had shown him any kind of affection. You treated him with a tenderness that he wasn't used to, but graciously accepted and enjoyed.

"It's nice out tonight— cool. I could lay here forever." Guts admitted, his gruff voice breaking the momentary silence that had fallen between you two. With a quiet grunt, he moved to lay on his back, the blades of grass surrounding his large frame tickling his ears and the back of his head. The familiar chirping of crickets filled the warm, summer night air, only interrupted by the occasional hoot of an owl. Guts stared up at the night sky, admiring the twinkling stars that seemed to shine just a bit brighter than they usually did— as if they were shining just for the two of you.