AR'SIA – GARDEN BESIDE THE PLAZA, 8PM
EXT. GARDEN COURTYARD
The night breeze had grown colder.
Evah didn't move from her spot—still seated on the soft grass near the pond, her eyes fixed on the water where her reflection shimmered faintly. She held up her left hand, mesmerized by the ring on her finger, watching how the moonlight danced along its edges.
"Boo."
The sudden whisper by her left ear from behind almost made her jump. She turned instantly to check, only realizing who the voice belonged to halfway through—when she saw him too.
Erion.
He was crouched right behind her, sitting at eye level. Somehow, she hadn't heard a single sound as he approached. Not surprising. It was Erion, after all—sneaking up on people came as naturally to him as breathing.
"Can you stop doing that?" she muttered, leaning slightly away, still reeling from the surprise.
But Erion didn't respond.
That's when she noticed—something was off.
Evah studied him closely.
Erion shifted, now sitting fully on the grass, legs crossed in a relaxed sprawl. The moonlight found him easily, highlighting every angle of his face like a portrait: his hair was pushed back, revealing his forehead for the first time; his jawline was sharp, striking; and his expression—somehow both serene and flushed—felt unfamiliar. His eyes were half-lidded, his breathing too calm, too loose.There was a faint reddish tint to his face—subtle, but not his usual color.
Wait... is he—?
She leaned in slightly, unsure.
"Are you—" she began, but was cut off.
"You."
He pointed at her, his voice thick with mock accusation. "How could you just sit here enjoying the night while they were selling me back there?"
Evah blinked. What?
"I—" she tried to protest, but his finger was suddenly on her lips, silencing her.
Her eyes widened in shock, but she was frozen—unable to do anything.
"Shh. Excuses," he muttered.
He didn't sound angry—just… confusing.
And then he leaned in closer. Evah wanted to panic, to protest, to pull away—but he moved so unusually slowly, it only left her more confused and frozen in place.
"Do you know how many times I got married in there?" he said, face inches from hers. His voice was low, almost threatening, but not in a romantic way—more like a warning.
It would've worked, too—if his eyes weren't still barely open and his breath wasn't warm against her cheek.
Evah's eyes widened. "Erion… are you drunk?"
He blinked, slow and lazy.
"Nope." Then a hiccup excited his lips.
Nope?
Evah's mind reeled. When has he ever said 'nope'?
Erion's moods could shift, yes—but always within limits. From cold and formal to mildly casual, never anything unpredictable. Never like this.
"You are drunk!"
On cue, his head dropped straight onto her lap—not with a thud, but gently. Purposefully.
Evah yelped, "Hey! Get up—this isn't funny!"
But he didn't move.
Now he was lying flat across her lap, eyes fully shut.
Still. Completely still.
"Don't sleep—Erion" She leaned down cautiously. "You can't just—" Her face close to his. Her voice softened.
He looked so harmless like this. Still intimidating—but softer.
A sudden snore nearly made her flinch. Only then did she realize how long she'd been staring. Evah quickly tried to avert her gaze, but Erion muttered something under his breath.
"They were selling me..." he mumbled in his sleep, "It's your fault."
Evah frowned. My fault?!
She wanted to protest, but what was the point?
Then he turned toward her, curling slightly like a child, one hand tucked beside him. His breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.
Without realizing it, Evah found herself staring.
Longer than she should have.
So peaceful... And so unlike the version of him she'd seen in battle.
"So different from that," she whispered.
That's when it hit her.
All this time living with Erion—she'd never seen him sleep. Not once.
Maybe he's always been cautious... because of me? she wondered.
But surely he must have slept somewhere else, right?
It's impossible to stay awake for weeks... isn't it?
"Hmm."
A soft hum escaped his lips. It was content, like a child dreaming of sweets.
Evah, almost entranced, reached out and gently brushed his hair with her fingers.
He responded immediately, leaning into her touch—like a kitten seeking warmth.
Startled, she yanked her hand back, shocked at what she'd just done.
That. didn't.happen.
Now, Erion had tucked himself closer to her body, like a sleeping cat shielding itself from the cold, using her for shelter.
Nothing prepared her for this. Nothing.
"You smell nice." His voice was barely audible—soft, warm, slurred. Eyes still close.
Evah froze.
She almost wished she hadn't heard that. Is he mocking me?
Erion buried his face against her side.
"Lord Erion!" A voice called from a distance.
Startled, Evah turned, trying to place the voice.
"Lord Erion—"
"Silas!" she waved, unable to stand with Erion sprawled across her lap.
Thankfully, Silas noticed her and rushed over.