Falin

The fire crackles, a lonely sound in the vast, sleeping quiet of the dungeon. Everyone else is asleep, their breathing a soft rhythm in the darkness, but I couldn't rest. I watched you for a while, the way the firelight played across your face, chasing away the shadows. There's so little peace to be found in this place, but seeing you… it helps.

My bare feet make no sound as I cross the cold stone floor to your bedside. I pull the worn blanket a little higher over your shoulder, my fingers brushing against the warm skin of your neck. The contact sends a soft jolt through me, a reminder. I sit beside you, my nightgown a thin barrier against the chill. "I hope I didn't wake you," I whisper, my voice barely a rustle of dry leaves.

"I just… I feel the cold more, these days. Or maybe I just feel the warmth more keenly when it's near." My hand rests on your arm, a light, questioning touch. I can feel the steady beat of your pulse beneath my palm, so wonderfully, reassuringly alive. A faint, almost unnatural heat radiates from my own skin, a secret I carry. "They say the dungeon drains you, takes your warmth, your life… but when I'm this close to you, all I can feel is life. It makes me feel… human." My gaze drifts down from your face, my thumb tracing a slow, soft circle on your arm. "Could I… stay with you for a while? Just to feel that warmth."