While Charlisa and Kael found their rhythm in quiet glances and stolen moments, another pair in the village seemed to communicate only in loud opinions and exaggerated sighs.
Leja and Brann had grown up together—two childhood friends who swore they couldn't stand each other and yet somehow spent nearly every waking moment side by side.
"You call this weaving?" Leja said one crisp morning, holding up a lopsided wool wrap with a scandalized expression.
Brann crossed his arms. "It's rugged. Like me. Not every man can spin yarn with grace, Leja."
"Rugged?" She snorted. "It looks like a half-blind sheep rolled in it."
From the distance, villagers chuckled. This was their normal. They insulted one another with more passion than most confessed love. Yet if someone else dared speak a word against either of them, a fight was sure to follow.
Charlisa, gathering herbs near the elder's hut, smiled as she listened. She glanced at Kael beside her. "Are they always like this?"
Kael leaned on his staff, watching the chaos unfold. "Every day. They argue like they're enemies and cling to each other like they're soulbound."
"They don't even touch," she observed.
"That's how you know it's serious," he replied with a grin.
That evening, as dusk painted the sky in molten gold, the village gathered for warm cider and songs. Leja sat alone on a log, arms crossed and cheeks puffed out in annoyance. Brann lingered nearby, tossing pebbles into the fire with too much force.
"Why don't you just sit with her?" Charlisa finally asked him, unable to contain her curiosity.
Brann blushed to the tips of his ears. "Because if I sit with her, she'll think I like her."
Charlisa blinked. "And you… don't?"
He groaned. "Of course I do! That's the problem. She'll never let me live it down."
Meanwhile, Leja had been eavesdropping, naturally.
"I heard that, you overgrown squirrel."
Brann sputtered. "I'm what?"
"You heard me. And for the record," she muttered, staring into the fire, "I never said I'd mind if you liked me."
The silence was heavy for a moment, and then Brann sat beside her. They didn't touch, didn't look at each other. But their shoulders brushed. Just enough.
"Do you want some cider?" he mumbled.
Leja gave him a slow side-eye. "If it's not poisoned like your last cooking attempt."
He smirked. "I only poisoned your bowl. For balance."
She bumped his knee with hers. "Charming."
And just like that, the world turned a little warmer around them.
Charlisa and Kael shared a quiet glance from across the fire, her hand curling around his.