The room had gone quiet except for the sound of their breathing — slow, steady, and in sync. The faint light spilling through the curtains brushed over their tangled bodies, painting them in a soft, golden hue.
Miyu lay on Haruto's chest, her cheek resting just above his heart. She could hear its steady rhythm, strong and reassuring, and it made her smile. His skin was still warm, his arm wrapped gently around her back as if protecting her from the world.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Miyu simply breathed him in — the faint scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers unconsciously stroked her hair. It was a simple gesture, but it made her chest ache in the best way.
"He's fine now…" she thought softly, a quiet relief blooming in her heart. The tension that had lingered between them — the worries, the unspoken fears — all seemed to melt away in that silence.
