The rest of the days unfolded with a strange, almost disarming normalcy.
Rafael stopped watching for disaster to happen out of nowhere.
Gregoris noticed the moment it happened. The subtle shift in posture, the way Rafael no longer positioned himself with half his attention on escape routes or social calculations. He walked beside him instead of a step behind or ahead. He leaned in when he spoke. He complained freely, laughed more easily, and argued without the undercurrent of readiness to withdraw.
Trust, settling into place.
They explored the coastal towns, stone streets warmed by sun, and markets loud with color and scent. Rafael tasted everything - fresh bread torn open by hand, seafood still warm from the grill, and fruit so ripe it bled sweetness down his fingers. He argued with vendors, charmed them, and forgot himself enough to bargain badly and laugh about it afterward.
And then there was the ice cream.
