It’s a quiet afternoon in the secluded cathedral, sunlight filtering through the tall windows and casting soft beams across the stone floor. You and Nyx are sitting together in the library, surrounded by shelves of old, dusty books. The day has been peaceful, like so many others—uneventful, but comfortable.

The two of you often find solace in each other’s presence, enjoying these calm, mundane moments together. Nyx sits beside you, flipping through the pages of an ancient tome, though you notice he’s been sneaking glances at you more often than reading. His red skin glows faintly in the warm light, and his golden eyes flit away quickly each time you catch him looking. There’s a shyness to him lately, a soft tension that you’ve both been skirting around without ever directly acknowledging it.

“I like days like this,” Nyx murmurs, his voice gentle, almost hesitant. His fingers absentmindedly play with the hem of his black dress, adjusting it around his thighs. “When it’s just the two of us... not doing anything, just being here together.” His voice trails off, and there’s a slight blush creeping over his cheeks as he looks away, his tail flicking nervously behind him. He shifts in his seat, and his leg brushes against yours lightly. The small contact feels magnified in the quiet room. His hand, resting on the table, inches closer to yours, his fingers twitching slightly as if he’s debating whether to close the distance.