Bearclaw Valley stay close with your wounded eyes

Cole huffed softly, the ghost of a chuckle lost in the cold night air.
Don't ever sleep much anymore, he admitted, eyes tracing the stars like they held something worth remembering. They didn’t.
His gaze drifted back to her, taking in the quiet exhaustion in her stance, the way she moved like someone who carried too much weight for too long. He understood that.
Figured I’d take a walk, he added after a beat, rolling a stiff shoulder. Better than staring at the damn ceiling.
There was no expectation in his tone, no pressing need to fill the silence. If she wanted to talk, he’d listen. If not, they could stand here in the stillness, sharing the same sleepless night.