Eran's gaze drifted upward for a moment too long, as if trying to wrestle the weight of his thoughts into silence.
And then...
Miyu moved.
She stepped closer, close enough that the space between them nearly vanished, and her chest brushed lightly against his. The contact was soft, fleeting, but it struck through him sharper than any blade.
Eran's head lowered again, his gaze snapping back down... and there she was.
Miyu's violet eyes, glassy and intense, locked fully onto his.
She raised her hands, hesitant but deliberate, until her fingers rested on his arm. There was nothing playful in the gesture, only quiet sincerity, a warmth that seemed to radiate straight from her skin into his.
Eran felt it.
And for the first time, he saw a warmth in her eyes that wasn't laced with pride or challenge, just something disarmingly real.
Miyu's voice was calm, almost too calm.
