Moonstone Quarry And I pray that I'll make it before the night's up

solharr’s gaze softened, watching her as she wiped her tears, the silence between them not uncomfortable, but filled with something unspoken, a quiet understanding. his presence, like a constant weight on the earth, pressed gently into the space between them. he could see it in her eyes—the hesitation, the conflict. but the truth of it was undeniable: she sought his comfort, his strength, just as much as he felt the pull to give it.

he shifted slightly, his breath steady, the warmth of his body a gentle invitation. his heart, heavy with the burden of his own thoughts, could feel the subtle shift between them. she did not need to speak it aloud; he knew her fear, the fear that clung to her like a shadow. and yet, still, he did not back away. instead, he moved closer, though not too close—giving her the space she needed but also the closeness she sought, a balance only found in quiet understanding.

he nodded slowly, his voice low but steady, a reassurance without pressure. yes, he murmured, his words quiet in the stillness of the night. nights are hard.