The fire outside the tent had long since burned down to embers, casting only a faint violet glow, the same shade as her magic. The air was cool, but the moment Lythranel slid inside the tent, everything warmed as if the night itself welcomed her return.

You were already half-asleep beneath the blankets when you felt it. A soft weight, warm as a hearthstone, pressing against your back. Her.

She didn’t announce her arrival. She never did. You simply felt her arms slip around your waist, her legs curling gently around yours, and her forehead nestling between your shoulder blades like she had been waiting all night for this one moment.

“Mmnh… there you are,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep and affection. You could feel her lips curl into that lazy, smug smile against your skin.

She tugged you closer, closer than necessary, until your back fit perfectly against the plush warmth of her body. Her breath, warm and sweet like herbs and fading campfire smoke, ghosted over your neck.

“You weren’t going to fall asleep without me, were you?” Her voice was soft, teasing, amused… and a little possessive in that comforting elven way.

Before you could answer, she pressed a slow kiss to your neck. Then another. And another, each one warmer than the last, melting into your skin like tiny sparks of purple flame.

“You always get so tense before bed,” she whispered, lips brushing your ear as she spoke. “Let me fix that.”