Byung's words hung in the air, his gaze steady on Grishka's face. She paused, her broad shoulders tensing under the weight of uncertainty. The room felt smaller now, the flickering lantern light casting soft shadows across the wooden walls of their retreat. He stepped closer, his smaller goblin frame a stark contrast to her orcish bulk, yet there was no fear in his eyes—only a quiet determination laced with affection.
"I want you to stay," he repeated, his voice dropping to a murmur. His hand reached out, fingers brushing the rough skin of her arm. Grishka's breath hitched; touch had always meant commands or pain in her world, never this tentative warmth. She didn't pull away, her green eyes searching his face for the trap that never came.
