Their gaze lingered longer than either of them would normally allow.
There was no imdiate interruption, no quick averting as usual. It was direct. Present. And, for Ouroboros... a little too much.
Her fingers continued to move, slower now, but still restless, tracing that sa irregular pattern against her own leg. Her eyes t Strax’s for a few seconds—long enough to feel the weight of that gaze—before wavering. She looked away.
First subtly.
Then more noticeably.
Her chin lowered slightly, her dark hair slipping slightly forward, creating a partial barrier between them, as if that would help lessen the intensity of the mont. But it didn’t. Not really.
She took a deep breath.
And murmured, without looking at him:
"...stop looking at like that."
Her voice ca out low, almost muffled, as if part of her didn’t really want to say it aloud. Still, she left. And stood there, between them.
Strax didn’t respond imdiately.
He tilted his head slightly, observing her more closely, not less. There was sothing about that request that wasn’t just superficial discomfort—it was deeper, more specific.
Ouroboros pressed her fingers lightly against her own leg, as if gathering courage to continue.
"I know what that look is," she added, still avoiding direct eye contact. Her tone remained low, but now there was a slight weight to it. "It’s concern."
A short pause.
"But it also seems..." she hesitated for a mont, her jaw tensing slightly. "...pity."
The word didn’t co out angrily.
It ca out...uncomfortably.
Almost bitterly.
Her fingers paused for a second before moving again, this ti a little faster, betraying the nervousness she clearly didn’t want to show.
"And I hate it," she murmured, even more quietly, as if admitting it was, in itself, uncomfortable enough.
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy.
But it was attentive.
Strax watched her for a few more seconds, absorbing not only what she said, but how she said it—the averted gaze, the movent of her hands, the way her voice faded whenever she approached sothing more vulnerable.
And then—
He smiled.
It wasn’t a broad smile.
Nor a provocative one.
It was small.
Gentle.
Almost imperceptible, but completely genuine.
"I’m worried about the woman I love," he said, naturally, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His voice carried no weight, no dramatization—just a simple, direct sincerity. "Is that a cri?"
The impact was imdiate.
Ouroboros froze.
Not completely—but enough. Her fingers stopped.
Her body stiffened slightly.
And for a very brief instant—
She forgot to breathe.
"..."
The phrase echoed within her in a way that shouldn’t have been possible for sothing said so casually.
Woman I love.
It wasn’t the first ti such feelings had existed between them.
But to hear it that way—
Without hesitation.
Without hesitation.
Without protection.
It was different.
Her body reacted before her mind could keep up. A small tremor ran through her shoulders, subtle but impossible to ignore. Her eyes, already lowered, closed for a second longer than a simple blink.
And when they opened again—
They didn’t rise.
They remained on the ground.
"...damn," she murmured, her voice lower than before, almost failing at the end of the word.
Her fingers began to move again, but now more chaotically, as if they couldn’t even maintain the simple pattern that had previously served as a distraction.
"You’re so unfair..."
There was no real accusation there.
No real irritation.
It was... sothing else.
Sothing closer to surrender than confrontation.
Strax didn’t look away.
But he didn’t advance either.
He maintained the sa posture, the sa distance, allowing her enough space to deal with it at her own pace.
Ouroboros took a deep breath, the air entering sowhat irregularly before slowly exiting. Her shoulders relaxed a little, but not completely. There was still tension there—not the tension from before, of loss of control, but a more... internal one.
More emotional.
"You can’t say things like that," she continued, still not looking at him, her voice a little firr now, but still carrying that underlying vulnerability she was clearly trying to hide. "As if it were... simple."
She let out a small sigh through her nose.
"Because it isn’t."
There was a brief silence.
The wind rustled gently through the trees around them, making the leaves whisper above, creating an eerie contrast with the intensity of that more subdued mont.
Strax tilted his head slightly, observing her more closely.
"For it is," he replied without hesitation.
The answer ca calmly.
Directly.
Effortlessly.
Ouroboros frowned slightly, still looking down, as if it irritated her a little—but not in the usual way. It was the kind of irritation that ca when sothing made too much sense and yet you didn’t want to accept it.
"Of course it is," she murmured, almost in a low grumble. "Why don’t you think before you speak?"
There was a slight hint of teasing there.
Weak.
But present.
Strax released a small puff of air through his nose, sothing close to a suppressed laugh.
"I thought about it," he said.
And that made her stop.
Again.
Just for a second.
Enough.
Ouroboros pressed her lips together slightly, as if trying to suppress so reaction, before finally raising her gaze—not completely, but enough for her eyes to et his again, even if only for an instant.
"...that doesn’t help," she said, more quietly.
But she didn’t look away imdiately this ti.
And that—
It was different.
Strax held her gaze, but there was sothing softer about him now. Less analysis. Less explicit concern.
More... presence.
"It’s not pity," he said then, his voice a little lower than before, but still firm. "It never was."
Ouroboros didn’t answer.
But she didn’t look away either.
"If I had felt sorry for you," he continued, "I wouldn’t have let you fight."
A short pause.
"Nor would I have trusted you to get up again."
That hit her differently.
Less abruptly.
Deeper.
Her fingers slowed until they almost stopped, finally resting against her own leg, as if, for a mont, she no longer needed that constant movent.
"...I lost control," she murmured again, but this ti without the sa burden of frustration as before. It was more... a realization.
"Yes," Strax replied.
Without softening.
Without denying.
"Lost."
Another silence.
But not uncomfortable.
Just... real.
"But you ca back," he added imdiately afterward.
And that—
She didn’t answer with words.
But the slight relaxation of her shoulders said enough.
Ouroboros looked away again, but now it wasn’t escape.
It was... processing.
"I still hate that look," she murmured after a few seconds, almost as a last vestige of resistance.
Strax smiled slightly.
"Then get used to it," he replied simply.
She let out a small sound through her nose—sothing between a sigh and a failed attempt to hide a laugh.
And, for the first ti since waking up—
The tension in her body truly lessened.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough that the mont ceased to be just about what had happened...
And began to be about what was still there.
The sound ca before the presence.
Light footsteps on damp leaves, the subtle movent of air between the tree trunks, almost imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention—but Strax noticed. His eyes drifted for a mont in the direction of the sound, his body adjusting almost instinctively, though without real tension.
Ouroboros noticed too.
Her fingers, which had finally found a rare mont of stillness, began to move slightly again, not with the sa anxiety as before, but enough to indicate that she wasn’t completely stable yet.
Seconds later, two silhouettes erged from the darkness between the trees.
Scarlett ca first, her posture firm, her steps silent and precise, as if each movent were calculated to avoid unnecessary attention. Close behind, Tiamat appeared, less concerned with concealing her presence, though still carrying that natural confidence of soone who didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.
They both stopped a few ters from them.
And, for a brief mont—
They simply observed.
Ouroboros stood.
Conscious.
Back.
The relief was subtle.
But it was there.
In the shoulders that relaxed slightly.
In the air that seed lighter for an instant.
Tiamat was the first to break the silence.
"It took a while, but we found a place," she said, crossing her arms as she tilted her head slightly to the side, analyzing Ouroboros from head to toe as if visually confirming that she was indeed alright. "A guesthouse on the edge of town. Nothing flashy."
Scarlett nodded slightly.
"The structure is simple, but sufficient," she added, her voice as calm as ever. "Not much movent. Discreet."
Strax gave a slight nod.
"How many rooms?" he asked directly.
There was a short pause.
Tiamat exchanged a quick glance with Scarlett.
And then answered:
"One."
The silence that followed was short.
But significant.
Strax raised an eyebrow slightly, not exactly surprised, but clearly already anticipating the practical problem of it.
"Only one?" he repeated.
Scarlett confird.
"It was the only one available," she said. "And considering the ti... we don’t have many better options."
Tiamat shrugged.
"Either that, or sleep in the forest."
She said it naturally.
As if it were no big deal.
And, for her, it probably wasn’t.
Strax opened his mouth to reply, already clearly inclined to make a decision—practical, direct, predictable.
"So you two—"
But he didn’t finish.
Because Tiamat had already spoken.
"We’ll stay in the forest," she said, interrupting him with a simple gesture of her hand. "It’s no problem."
Scarlett didn’t object.
She simply nodded.
"You two get the room," she added, glancing briefly at Ouroboros before returning her gaze to Strax. "She needs to rest."
Simple.
Logical.
Resolved.
Or at least... it should be.
Because—
"No."
The voice ca low.
But firm enough to cut off the flow of the conversation.
Everyone looked at Ouroboros.
She still wasn’t looking directly at them.
But her body had adjusted slightly, as if she had decided to position herself—not physically, but... within the conversation itself.
Her fingers were quieter now.
Almost motionless.
"You don’t need that," she continued, her voice still controlled, but with a slight effort behind it, as if she were forcing herself to maintain that steady tone.
Tiamat frowned slightly.
"You don’t need what?" she asked.
Ouroboros took a deep breath once before finally raising her gaze—not completely confident, but present enough.
"For you to sleep in the forest," she replied.
There was a brief silence.
Scarlett tilted her head slightly.
"It’s the most practical option," she said.
"No," Ouroboros repeated, this ti a little more directly.
Their eyes finally t hers more firmly, even though there were still traces of hesitation there.
"Is the bed big?" she asked.
The question was... unexpected.
Tiamat blinked once.
Scarlett didn’t answer imdiately.
Strax just watched.
"Yes," Tiamat replied after a second, still trying to understand where this was going. "Probably."
Ouroboros nodded slightly.
As if that confird sothing.
And then—
"Then I don’t mind sharing with you."
Silence.
Complete.
Absolute.
For a whole second, nobody reacted.
Because—
It didn’t make sense.
Not coming from her.
Tiamat was the first to show a reaction.
Her eyes widened slightly, and her mouth opened just a little, as if she had heard sothing completely unexpected.
"...what?" she blurted out, almost without realizing it.
Scarlett wasn’t far behind.
Her normally controlled gaze wavered for a brief mont, surprise breaking the impeccable composure she maintained most of the ti.
Because Ouroboros—
Proud.
Reserved.
Territorial.
The sa one who, hours ago, barely tolerated emotional closeness—
Now she was—
Offering.
Sharing space.
Spontaneously.
Without pressure.
Without provocation.
Just... saying.
Ouroboros noticed the reaction.
Of course she noticed.
Her eyes imdiately darted away after she spoke, as if only then did she realize the weight of what she had said. Her fingers began to move again, faster now, betraying a nervousness her voice didn’t show.
"It’s nothing much," she murmured, trying to downplay it, as if it were sothing simple, common. "It’s just... easier."
But it wasn’t just that.
And everyone there knew it.
Tiamat slowly closed her mouth, still staring at her with an expression that mixed surprise and sothing almost... impressed.
"You hit your head harder than I thought," she said finally, crossing her arms, but with a slight hint of humor in her voice.
Scarlett, this ti—
She smiled.
Slightly.
Almost imperceptible.
But it was real.
"If this is a side effect," she said calmly, "maybe it’s not so bad."
Ouroboros frowned slightly, clearly bothered by the reactions, but she didn’t back down.
She didn’t back down.
And that—
Was the most significant thing of all.
Strax, who until then had remained silent, observing the entire exchange, let out a small, discreet smile, but one that carried sothing deeper than simple humor.
He didn’t comnt.
He didn’t provoke.
He didn’t reinforce it.
Because he understood.
It wasn’t just about practicality.
It was about trust.
And, in her own way—
That was already a lot.
The forest remained silent around them.
But, for the first ti since it all happened—
The group seed... aligned again.
Even if in a different way.
Less rigid.
More... human.
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