Noah's POV
"Layla, say 'aah,'" I murmured, lifting the spoon gently to her lips.
She blinked, then grinned playfully. "Aah~" she said, parting her lips with exaggerated delight.
The moment the warm soup touched her tongue, she closed her eyes with a hum of satisfaction. "Mmm... it's good," she whispered like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted.
I couldn't help but chuckle.
It had been six hours since Layla finally woke up—six long, terrifying hours after days of watching her twist in pain, unconscious and pale. Now, she could move, speak, and smile. Her skin was no longer ghostly, her breathing no longer shallow. Color returned to her cheeks, her eyes shone again—not with madness, but with the sparkle I remembered.
Scarlett had broken down the instant Layla opened her eyes. The girl who always stood proud, dignified, and sharp—just fell apart. Her arms wrapped around Layla so tightly it almost looked like she'd never let go again. She cried into her chest, trembling with relief and guilt, whispering apologies and scolding her in the same breath.
Even Lyra… even cold, logical, guarded Lyra had lowered her walls. She didn't say much—but she smiled. She leaned down and hugged Layla too, awkward and stiff at first, but genuine. And Layla… she pulled them both closer, smiling with tears in her eyes.
They held onto each other like they were all that existed in the world.
I just sat there, watching the three girls embrace, listening to the quiet sniffles, the soft reassurances. And for a moment… the world felt peaceful.
I thought back on their journey. Scarlett and Layla always bickered—like fire and wind, clashing and blowing in every direction. Yet now they clung together like blood sisters. And Lyra, who had never once initiated a hug, leaned into them without hesitation. I knew she felt deeply… but showing it? That was new.
And me?
I just kept cooking.
Something warm, something comforting. A mix of soft vegetables, a little herb broth, subtle spices to make it fragrant without overwhelming her senses. It felt strange, cooking for someone with this much care. But for some reason, I didn't mind. Not for her.
Layla was always loud, teasing, and unpredictable—but seeing her lying weak in that bed had shaken something inside me. And now that she was sitting up, smiling at me with soup on her lips, I wanted to protect that smile more than anything.
"Scarlett, you cried more than me," Layla teased once her bowl was half-empty.
"Hmph," Scarlett crossed her arms and turned away, cheeks flushed. "Only because you were being reckless again."
"Noah didn't sleep for two days straight, by the way," Lyra added, glancing at me. "He even didn't eat properly during this period ."
Layla blinked, then slowly turned toward me. "You stayed with me the whole time?"
I didn't answer, just continued spooning her soup quietly.
Layla gave a soft, almost reverent smile. "I'm sorry for making you all worry and—" she paused, turning her eyes to me, mischief returning like sunlight peeking through clouds, "—as for him, I'll make sure he gets a very good night soon. Hehe~."
A chill ran down my spine.
Scarlett let out an exasperated sigh, though her eyes twinkled with relief. Lyra smirked faintly and shook her head.
"I'm serious," Layla said, reaching out to lightly tug my sleeve. "Thank you… all of you. I saw something in my dreams—no, maybe not a dream. Something... dark. I was slipping. And all I could hear… was your voices. They pulled me back."
We didn't speak for a while after that. Layla just quietly drank her soup, and I kept feeding her.
Every spoonful she received with a smile. A genuine, radiant smile. The kind that lit up her entire face and made her eyes glimmer like stars.
"You really like this, don't you?" I asked quietly.
"Mm-hmm," she nodded, her lips curling again. "You never spoiled me before. I'm soaking it in."
I sighed. "Fine. Enjoy it while it lasts."
She stuck out her tongue.
When the soup was done, she leaned back into the pillows, visibly tired but glowing with quiet happiness. Scarlett adjusted her blanket, brushing Layla's hair with careful fingers. Lyra placed a warding crystal beside her bed and sat silently by the window, pretending not to watch us but watching all the same.
They had even brought her favorite things—a rabbit-shaped pillow, sour lemon candies, and a book filled with fairy tales she secretly loved. No one said it out loud, but we all knew: we were terrified of losing her.
The night came, and slowly the others left for their rooms, leaving the quiet of the dimly lit inn behind.
I was walking toward the bath, my muscles aching from two days of no sleep, when I felt a soft presence behind me.
"Layla?" I turned, startled.
She stood at the hallway entrance, draped in a thick blanket like a cloak, her hair slightly messy but her eyes gentle.
"You shouldn't be up."
"I know," she said softly, stepping toward me with slow, careful steps. "But I couldn't sleep. I wanted… to be near you."
I helped her to a bench near the moonlit window. Her fingers, even weak, didn't let go of mine until we both sat.
The moonlight painted silver across her face, catching in her eyes. She looked older, not just in beauty—though that too—but in presence. There was strength now, born from pain, rebirth, and acceptance.
"You've changed," I said quietly.
She nodded. "Something inside me... awakened. My body feels different. My mana, my senses... it's like I've grown. But also… I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"Of losing myself again. Of the darkness."
I reached out, brushing her hair gently. "Then don't be alone. If you ever feel like you're slipping, hold onto us. Onto me."
Layla's lips trembled slightly. She leaned into me, resting her head against my chest.
"I missed your voice," she whispered.
We stayed there, her breathing soft and slow, like a lullaby. I held her, feeling her warmth return little by little.
Then, in a voice filled with mischief and meaning, she murmured, "By the way, I wasn't joking earlier. About the good night."
I stiffened.
"But…" she added, curling closer, "not tonight. Tonight, I just want you here. Quiet. Holding me."
And so I did. With moonlight above, silence all around, and a heart slowly healing against mine—I just held her.
For once, there were no quests, no threats, no battles.
Just warmth. Just peace. Just love.
-To be continued...