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The night was cold. A downpour, much to your dismay.
The inn was settled in a quiet light, candles dimly lit while the comforting flames of the hearth set the nearby furnishings aglow. You and Meteor had luckily found a settlement during a mission in the Central Shroud. Conveniently timed, as it slowly began to downpour.
It wasn't as spacious as The Roost—far from it. Rather the room was only capable of settling for a bed befitting one person (and a half), a hearth, a rackety table, and a window. At first, you wouldn't have thought ill of the arrangement. In a way, you still didn't. It was old, but it did the job. Shelter was a blessing enough, but it would've been an epiphany if only you were a lone adventurer and not accompanied by a burly warrior built like a statue and almost twice your size.
The two of you had long since settled under the covers. The hearth did little to calm your shivers. Both warriors, settled beneath the same thin blanket and rested as if you were in a casket.
That was you.
Meteor had no qualms with the arrangement. He rested on his side, back faced to you while his eyes rested. Or that was what you assumed. Especially when you could hear his breaths even out as if this was no different from any other day. Your eyes were wide open throughout the night. Body taut, you remained on your back and stared at the old wooden ceiling. Your eyes glowered it down. Stared like your life depended on it—as if it would crumble should you allow yourself even the briefest moment of respite. But that wasn't on your mind right now.
You fidgeted; you shifted. Despite the small bed, Meteor had ensured his stature hadn't limited your personal space. A sizeable but small gap divided you both.
But you had no intentions of closing that gap.
You could feel your body nearing the edge of the mattress. On some occasions, you felt as though you were ready to plummet. That familiar sensation when you'd rest and suddenly felt like you tripped on air. All this wasn't meant to be new to you—sleeping in the same bed as the Warrior of Light. But it felt that way regardless the many times you attempted to console yourself.
So, you decided to try a form of distraction.
Meteor was the strong, silent type. He rarely spoke—if at all. You've managed to conduct your own mental lexicon of his grunts and huffs; what they meant and even to determine his mood. Even his silence. So, if he had issues with your rambling, you concluded he'd certainly make it known.
“You sleep like you’ve counted countless sheep already,” you muttered. There was no response, only the same, even breaths. A good sign, you thought at first. “I wonder what you're dreamin' about, or is it just endless silence in there with your thoughts?” A pause. Thoughts. "I don't think you even have any."
Once again, no response. You almost expected one.
Maybe a shift in the sheets, or even a subtle flinch of his arm. You turned to face Meteor. Then observed. Pondered. Eyed the way his broad shoulders filled your line of sight, before trailing down the length of his torso and how it disappeared halfway into the covers. Part of you thought about how it'd feel to wrap your arms around the dip of his waist.
He was warm, you bet.
You shuffled closer. You could feel the body warmth radiate from his form like a living, breathing heater. The hearth in the room was just for decoration. Then you returned to your original position. You didn't want to "give away" your redundant means to get closer, even if there was an unlikely chance Meteor would even acknowledge it. He gave you space to take, but your stubborn arse wouldn't.
Slowly, the silence began to stretch on. Then you decided it began to feel a bit too heavy “…You were great today,” you offered, a little softer. “You probably hear that plenty. I'm sure this is no new news to you.”
Still nothing. Then you continued.
“I mean, you really did great on those packs earlier. Not that I was watching you or anything. Just… situational awareness. Tactical concern. Totally normal teammate things.” Your rambling slowly persisted.
Although you couldn't see it, a slight twitch tugged at Meteor's lips.
“Anyway. Hope you're warm enough. You’ve got most of the blanket and you're built like a heater, and I'm laying over here like a person starving. So, if I freeze in the middle of the night, that’s on you. Tell the Scions I died dramatically. Maybe cry a little. Not too much—don’t ruin your aura of mystery.”
You let a small chortle slip from your lips, and after a moment you shifted on the bed and finally closed the gap. The warmth immediately seeped into your form like a comforting embrace. Now no longer feeling threatened by the possibility of falling, you decided now you could finally rest. But not before uttering a few more words.
“Sometimes I wish I knew what you were thinking. When you look at me like that.”
A beat.
“I talk enough for both of us, though,” you added, trying to laugh—but the sound was tired now. Thin. “Figures I’d fall for someone who makes me do the heavy lifting and the heavy talking.”
That silence again. You exhaled through your nose. “Sorry. That was—"
You paused before you could continue. This time, you hoped that maybe Meteor was truly asleep, and that you've just been rambling to yourself like a clueless idiot who didn't know how to react to basic situations.
The stillness soon wrapped around you both like a blanket of its own. A simple, comforting but somewhat tense quiet since your last few words. You were halfway to slumber when you suddenly heard a foreign sound—soft, rough, and barely audible:
“Keep talking.”
The words were gentle. Hoarse, like they hadn’t been used in hours. Days. Even years.
Your breath hitched.
You opened your eyes again, but Meteor didn't move. Didn't open his own. Just laid there, back turned and steady and silent again, as if the words were a dream and you were simply... losing your mind. But as you scrambled to replay what you thought you had heard, you felt a shift under the blanket.
A subtle, almost tentative graze against your arm.
Then a complete shift in movement.
You watched in your periphery as Meteor now mimicked your stance. Laid back, facing the ceiling but with eyes still closed. His shoulder pressed against your own, and you once again lay stiff and tense.
You could almost swear Meteor knew what he was doing. A silent gesture, but one that spoke volumes.
“…Okay,” you eventually whispered.
And so, you did. Voice lower now. Slower. Retailing Meteor about the parts of the mission that were funny. Or even some experiences you encountered, such as the time you nearly got chased out of the Gridanian markets asking if the Wood Wailers had ever actually wailed, or if it was just branding. You knew better, but it was funny when you thought about it.
The quiet returned. The distant pounding of rainfall and the sounds of crackling flames filled that void. Your voice slurred, your eyes fluttered. Your body grew lax against the bed as your breaths evened out.
Meteor didn’t speak again—but when you eventually drifted off, he finally glanced your way. A subtle warmth filled his eyes, a quiet appreciation for your company. Not that he would ever make that known.
But he was sure you knew now.