The small banter drifted softly over the quiet stream as the two women helped him finish washing away the final traces of the bloody war.
But as Kira's hands smoothed over his broad, unblemished back, her movements gradually slowed, her touch lingering longer than necessary over his spine.
The lighthearted air between them began to thin, replaced by a sudden, heavy stillness that even the rushing water could not quite fill.
"Sol..." Kira's voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling so faintly that it was almost swallowed by the rushing water.
Sol turned his head slightly, noticing that her cloth had stopped moving altogether. When he looked at her face in the moonlight, his smile faded.
Tears were gathering in her eyes, sparkling like liquid silver before trailing down her cheeks.
"Kira?" Sol asked, his raspy voice softening. "What's wrong?"
She swallowed hard, her chest heaving as a choked, hiccuping sob escaped her throat.
