By the time Noah and the other EON members returned to the Terania Estate, the clock had already passed midnight. The car ride from the Dome had been long and silent, the city lights blurring past beyond the tinted windows. Hours of rehearsal—sound checks, production cues, endless fine-tuning—had left his muscles aching and his mind dulled by fatigue.
When he finally stepped out of the car, exhaustion clung to him like a heavy coat. The estate was quiet, its grand halls bathed in soft amber light, the only sound the distant hum of the fountains outside.
He loosened his tie as he walked, his footsteps echoing lightly against the polished floors. His thoughts were clouded by weariness, and all he wanted was rest. Without much thought, he turned down the familiar corridor and pushed open the door to what he assumed was his room.
Then he froze.
Under the gentle spill of moonlight from the curtains, Mirabelle lay fast asleep. Her hair spread across the pillow like spilled silk, glinting faintly under the silver light. Her breathing was even and soft, her expression calm and utterly serene. For a moment, Noah could only stand there, every trace of exhaustion vanishing as he took in the sight before him.
"…Belle?" he whispered.
She didn't stir.
He hesitated, then tried again, a little louder. "Mirabelle."
Still nothing.
A quiet laugh escaped him—soft, disbelieving and full of nostalgia. Some things never changed. Even as children, she had been impossible to wake once she fell asleep. He could still remember finding her dozing in strange places after following him around the estate all day—how she'd smile in her dreams, oblivious as he carried her back to her room. The memory loosened something deep in his chest.
He moved quietly, draping his jacket over a chair and unbuttoning his cuffs. The room smelled faintly of lavender and something warmer—something unmistakably her. He hesitated for a moment, then turned away to the bathroom ensuite.
Inside, he washed up in silence, the cool water against his face chasing away the last traces of exhaustion. He brushed his teeth mechanically, his reflection in the mirror distant and thoughtful. By the time he returned to the bedroom, his hair was damp, his mind clearer, though no less conflicted.
He pulled off his dress shirt, folded it neatly beside his tie, and changed into a plain black shirt and soft shorts. For a moment, he stood by the bed again, unsure whether to leave. But his fatigue won out, and the comfort of her presence held him still.
He turned off the night light, lifted the edge of the blanket, and slipped carefully into bed beside her.
At first, he kept a polite distance, lying stiffly on his side. But the quiet pressed in around him, and the soft rhythm of her breathing filled the space between them. Without realizing it, he inched closer.
Her warmth reached him instantly.
He could smell her hair—light, floral, and familiar—and the tension in his shoulders melted away. He felt heartbeat slow to something gentle, something human. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the serenity on her face, illuminated by the moonlight.
A small, helpless smile curved his lips. His hand brushed hers beneath the blanket—accidentally, but he didn't move it away.
Mirabelle stirred in her sleep, shifting faintly toward him, and his breath caught. He stayed still, listening—to her breathing, to the hush of the night, to the quiet pulse of something tender unfolding in his chest.
And as exhaustion finally overtook him, Noah drifted into sleep with a faint smile, wrapped in a calm he hadn't realized he'd been searching for—the quiet, steady peace that had always existed beside her.