As Grey watched her—
Elsa leaned lazily against a crooked tree, the bark peeling behind her, as she puffed casually on her cigarette.
The faint curl of smoke drifted upward, caught by the pale moonlight that seeped into the Mirror Realm, casting everything in a ghostly, ethereal glow.
Each time she exhaled, the smoke would shimmer under the twin moons' cold light, swirling silver and gold for a fleeting second before vanishing into the dark.
Grey's gaze lingered on her without him realizing.
She tilted her head back, exposing the pale curve of her throat.
Her eyes half-lidded in quiet thought, her lips brushed lightly against the cigarette as if savoring not just the taste—but the moment itself.
Sensing his stare, Elsa turned her head sharply toward him, catching him in the act.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, like a cat catching sight of something out of place.
"...Why are you staring at me?" she asked bluntly, her voice cutting clean through the night.
Grey blinked, a slow, unhurried motion—as if he were waking from some distant dream.
Realizing he had been caught, he answered smoothly, without missing a beat:
"Nothing," he said, voice lazy. "Just wanted a puff."
Elsa raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
"You?" she drawled, dragging the word out with theatrical suspicion.
"Didn't you say you quit?"
Grey shrugged carelessly, rolling his shoulders in a loose, lazy arc.
"Well..." His tone was dry. "Let's just say I'm being influenced by bad people."
Elsa gasped mockingly, her lips quirking into a sly smile.
"Ohhh? Bad people, huh?"
Grey nodded without shame, not even pretending to defend himself.
"Yup."
Elsa chuckled under her breath, her laughter warm and low, like a soft chime in the still night.
"Yeah, I guess I'm guilty," she sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart.
"I've done terrible things... like saving you. Carrying you on my back when you were blind and half-dead."
She took a slow step closer, her voice dripping with exaggerated sorrow.
"Cooking for you... feeding you when you couldn't even lift a finger—when you were nothing more than a corpse that couldn't move, see, or even speak for a whole day."
The closer she came, the softer her voice became, her cheeks puffing up in an exaggerated pout.
"Saving your life day after day… listening to you cry my name for help… and let's not forget what happened when—"
"Okay, okay, stop!" Grey interrupted, clicking his tongue, half-annoyed, half-amused.
Elsa pouted even more, her tiny grumbles almost too faint to hear.
Grey spoke again, his voice suddenly smooth as honey.
"...Did I ever tell you," he said flatly, "how grateful I am to you, Miss Elsa?"
She stared at him, unimpressed, her blue eyes glinting with mock disgust at how shameless one man could be.
"Never," she snapped.
Grey smiled—
a slow, deliberate, shameless smile like a man who had just won a petty but important victory.
"Well," he said lightly, "that's because I'm not."
Elsa's glare sharpened—but a second later, she sighed in resignation, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
The tension between them dissolved, replaced by something lighter, warmer.
In one sudden movement, Elsa stepped closer, bridging the small distance between them.
Before Grey could react, she plucked the cigarette from her lips and casually stuck it between his, her fingers brushing against his mouth.
For a brief, breathless second, she was standing too close—closer than necessary.
Close enough that Grey could feel the faint warmth of her body, the subtle scent of smoke and something sweeter—like wildflowers—clinging to her skin.
The world seemed to shrink, narrowing down to just the space between them.
Her face, framed by wild, tumbling red hair, hovered inches from his.
Her eyes—bright and mischievous—watched him with an intensity that made the night itself feel heavier.
Any other man would have stumbled, heart racing, words fumbling.
Too bad for her.
She was facing Grey.
He simply stared at her with his usual deadpan expression, utterly unmoved.
Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face.
Elsa leaned back slightly, slipping a fresh cigarette between her lips.
Instead of lighting it normally, she tilted her head mischievously, bringing her cigarette's tip to touch Grey's—expecting to catch a spark.
Instead, Grey's cigarette flickered pathetically, then extinguished with a soft, dying whisper.
"Oops," Elsa said sweetly, not looking sorry at all.
She smiled slyly, a victorious glint lighting her eyes.
"Light it up," she ordered playfully.
Grey frowned faintly...
"...What do you mean?"
Elsa didn't answer right away.
Instead, she gazed at him, her eyes gleaming like a child about to play a prank.
Her voice dropped into a soft, teasing murmur:
"Use your rune..."
Grey's frown deepened.
"Why?"
Elsa's lips curled into an innocent smile that made her look like a mischievous angel.
"Well, you see," she whispered, voice light and airy, Red hair shimmering under the moons' glow,"...for the past month, every time you fought monsters and used that fire of yours, I thought..."
She leaned in a little closer, her breath brushing against his skin.
"...I thought it would be fun to try it."
"...To taste it."
"You know what I mean right?"
"..."
Grey stared at her in dead silence.
The urge to sigh was nearly overwhelming.
This girl—
He fought back the reflex to click his tongue.
But.
For some reason—
He didn't want to....
Didn't want to ruin this moment.
Controlling himself, he allowed his gaze to soften just slightly—barely a whisper of change.
Elsa was still staring at him.
Her eyes quietly asking:
Will you?
Grey hesitated.
He wasn't the type to bow to others' whims.
Especially not for something so foolish.
But for some reason...
He couldn't find it in himself to refuse her.
A mystery he refused to dig deeper into.
Finally, letting himself fall into the moment, Grey burned his anger rune for a few seconds—
The faint heat rising in his hand—
Carefully, he lifted his hand, his movements slow, deliberate.
As the tips of their cigarettes touched, a tiny flame blossomed between them, red and warm and crackling like a heartbeat in the silent night.
Elsa's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of real wonder passing through them.
For a moment, they both inhaled together.
The fire caught.
The cigarettes flared briefly before settling into a slow, steady burn.
The Mirror Realm stood utterly still around them.
The twin moons hung frozen in the dark sky, casting soft pools of light over the broken ruins.
Smoke curled lazily between them, forming a fragile, silvery veil.
Even after her cigarette was lit, Elsa didn't step away.
She simply stared at him—her expression unreadable
Grey met her gaze calmly, but in the dim, silvery light, he truly saw her for the first time.
It struck him—
How close she was, how real she felt.
For the first time, he looked at her not as an opponent, not as a companion, but simply as her.
And he realized—
She was beautiful.
Almost unbearably so.
Not just the kind of beauty that struck you in the heart—
But the kind that made the whole world fall quiet around around you.
He had met many women in his past life.
Queens. Empresses. Princess. Women of unmatched grace and terrifying power.
But none could compare to the girl in front of him now.
None had ever made him forget himself like this.
His eyes traced the strands of her wild red hair, some falling across her face, half-hiding one bright, gleaming eye.
Before he even thought about it, Grey lifted a hand.
Gently, almost reverently, he brushed her hair back, tucking the stray strands behind her ear.
His fingers lingered longer than necessary, brushing lightly against the soft curve of her ear.
'Soft.'
The word slipped through his mind like a whispered prayer.
Softer than he expected.
Elsa's eyes widened slightly at his touch.
Just slightly.
So small a change, so fleeting a moment—
That if he hadn't been this close, he might have missed it altogether.
Grey smiled faintly—an almost invisible smile, gone before it fully bloomed.
Then he leaned back, slowly releasing a breath.
The smoke coiled lazily around them, weaving a haze that blurred the edges of the world.
Through the thin veil of smoke, Elsa stood frozen—caught off guard, her cigarette forgotten between her lips.
Finally, Grey broke the moment.
Casually, he plucked the half-burnt cigarette from his mouth and glanced at it thoughtfully.
He licked his lips absentmindedly.
'Sweet.'