The stars had long since begun to fade, the black sky softening into the indigo hush of deep night.
Niah lay curled against Zaire on the stone bench of the old courtyard, wrapped in his coat, her head tucked under his chin. His arms circled her protectively, one hand tracing slow, lazy circles along her back, as if memorising the rhythm of her breath.
For a while, there was only the whisper of wind through the leaves and his heart's steady, grounding beat against her ear.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them wanted to break the fragile thing that had been stitched back between them.
Yet, reality never rushes, it waits.
Eventually, Zaire's hand stilled against her back.
Niah shifted slightly, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Sleep clung to her, softening the edges of her thoughts.
His silver eyes caught hers, soft but serious now, the weight of the world creeping back into their stolen corner of the night.
"We can't stay out here forever," he said, low and regretful.
"I know." She brushed her fingers against his jaw, feeling the rough scrape of stubble beneath her touch.
Zaire caught her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You've been through too much already," he murmured, something raw flickering in his gaze. "I would burn the world to give you peace, if I could."
Her throat tightened.
"But the world doesn't stop just because we want it to," she said, offering him a sad, knowing smile.
He exhaled a quiet laugh with no humour and pulled her closer, as if he could shield her from the inevitable.
"The others will be expecting us to start planning," she murmured against his chest.
"They can wait a few more minutes," Zaire said, voice rough, fierce. "I'm not done holding you yet."
And neither was she.
She tucked herself tighter against him, soaking in his warmth, feeling his breath stir through her hair.
"I missed this," she whispered.
Though her memories were scattered, her past, him, so many things lost in fragments, she could still feel them. The emotions remained, lingering beneath the surface, untouched by time.
And most of all, she still loved him. He understood without needing words.
Zaire tilted her chin up and kissed her, slower this time, almost reverent, as if memorising the shape of her mouth.
When they pulled apart, she saw it in his eyes, the vow left unspoken. Whatever battles lay ahead, whatever darkness came for them, he would stand between it and her, no matter what it cost.
And she would fight beside him, as she had always meant to. As she was always meant to.
Under the crumbling hush of fading stars, Zaire and Niah clung to each other, two broken pieces fitting back together.
The night continued, and the stars faded.
And in the quiet before dawn, they gathered the strength to begin again.
* * *