The light in the room was soft, casting a warm glow over Ada's face as she sat up, cradled by blankets, her expression drowsy but curious as she looked at him. Devereaux watched her with a gentle smile, one that he hadn't worn in so long it felt foreign on his face.

This moment, quiet and tender, stretched between them like a fragile thread, and he was careful not to disturb it. She remembered him, finally. That realization pulsed through him with an intensity he didn't quite understand, stirring emotions he thought had faded long ago.

He lifted the spoon, the soup he had prepared still warm, and brought it to her lips, his movements slow and deliberate. She watched him with a look that was both brave and wary, a resilience shaped by her own scars and struggles, yet softened by the quiet trust she was placing in him.

Devereaux's thumb brushed along her jaw, just below her cheek, lingering there as he held her gaze. Ada's gaze softened as she took a sip, her lips curving faintly, the warmth of the broth filling her. There was an innocence in her expression, a vulnerability she tried to hide but couldn't fully mask. 

Her eyes held that faint glimmer of uncertainty, the weight of past fears mingling with something new—hope, fragile and tentative, as though she were afraid it might slip away if she let herself believe.

Another spoonful, lifted with the same careful gentleness, and she leaned forward slightly, trusting him, letting him take care of her. Her lips brushed the edge of the spoon, her eyes flicking up to meet his with each sip, her expression brightening, bit by bit, as though some weight was lifting from her shoulders. And when she smiled—just a faint, fragile smile—something in Devereaux melted. 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way—the simple joy of caring, of giving comfort, of being close to someone without the shadows lurking at the edge. Each time he was around her, each time she looked at him with that unwavering trust, it amazed him how the dying remnants of his humanity seemed to breathe, to come alive again. 

This was the warmth he hadn't felt in centuries, a stirring of something that had been locked away, buried beneath layers of penance and regret. To feel emotions again, to be reminded of what it meant to care, to hope... it was as though Ada had brought light into the parts of him he'd long since abandoned. And it reminded him of his Verdict Day.

He remembered the dark, solemn chamber where he'd once stood before Lady Moira, her voice was clear in his memory, sharp and unforgiving, echoing across the stone walls.

"Do you know where you'd go after this?" she had asked, her tone both merciless and oddly sympathetic.

"No... my lady," he had murmured, his eyes lowered in a rare display of humility.

"Well, we call that place The Land of Shadows," she replied, her voice deep with the weight of countless judgments rendered over the centuries. "A place for those who still have ties to the living world—debts owed, wrongs left unsettled, lives left unvalued."

"I did what I did for what they did to me." He clenched his fists, a bitter defiance clawing its way up his throat. "That should settle the debt if we are to worry about any," he'd spat, the fury raw and unfiltered.

"That does not settle anything," Lady Moira had replied, her tone steely. "That's not how this works, Severan."

He'd fallen silent, casting his eyes back to the ground, knowing better than to provoke her any further. Lady Moira, unlike Lady Nova, could be terrifying when enraged. He knew the consequences of her wrath, and despite his pride, he wanted this chance—this one, desperate chance—more than anything.

Taking a measured breath, Lady Moira had continued, her voice softened, though her words struck him harder than any blade. "You... I'd make you immortal, give you a name, a purpose. In return, you will learn what it means to be human, to cherish life, to ignite the desires within you into something kinder. You will guide, protect, understand their worth... through ten thousand tasks. This will take millennia."

Devereaux's heart had clenched, a chill of dread settling in his bones. Ten thousand assignments. The weight of it was overwhelming, an eternity spent in purgatory.

"That's too much for just hundred humans—that's too long—" 

"You get no say in this, boy," Lady Moira had replied, her tone resolute. "Unless you find a way to learn your lesson faster. Until you learn how to feel, how to truly value life, you'll be bound to us."

Her words echoed now, as he looked at Ada, her trusting smile, her warmth, the vulnerability in her gaze. For the first time, he felt he was beginning to understand. He looked back down at the human at his company there. This strange, unfamiliar ache in his chest as he looked at her, this tenderness he hadn't thought himself capable of seemed to induce hope. 

Ada looked up at him, her eyes still soft with gratitude, her hand reaching to cover his where it rested on her cheek. Her touch was gentle, grounding, and he felt himself lean into it, as though her warmth were the only thing keeping him anchored.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough to break through the walls he had so carefully built.

He gave her a small, almost shy smile. "You don't need to thank me, Ada. Just... just rest."

Holding her, caring for her, he felt that for the first time, he was learning to feel. Learning what it meant to be alive. And for the first time in centuries, he felt that maybe—just maybe—he had a chance to become someone better.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"So..." Ada began, her voice breaking the silence, a touch of amusement in her eyes. "Grandma set you up?"

Devereaux chuckled, his eyes crinkling with rare warmth. "Yeah. Lady Mertha can be... persistent, sometimes." His fingers traced a small pattern on the table, almost idly.

"She saw something in me, I suppose. That I'm despite being literal Death can somehow keep you safe. She even made me pinky promise that I'd do everything in my power to keep look after you."

A soft smile reached the girl's lips, "She loved me."

"Yes. She loved you a lot."

"I remember those days, actually. You used to show up all the time. Always with that serious look on your face." Ada smirked, leaning forward.

"Did I?" Devereaux raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "I thought I was rather friendly."

Ada laughed softly, shaking her head. "Friendly... sure. But not always. When that serious look dominates your features you looked like you were two steps from dragging someone off into the night. Specially when I learned you were Death, I was even convinced that being too close to you might even make you wanna drag me down to hell with you." She chuckled.

"Being Death does't grantee me such luxuries, human." Devereaux shrugged. "I'm bound to the Law of Balance like everyone else." A faint smirk played at the corner of his mouth. "But I must admit, I quite enjoyed it, being around you."

The words hung in the air, soft but unmistakable, and for a moment, Ada felt her cheeks flush. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond, so she laughed instead, letting the sound cover her flustered reaction.

They let the comfortable silence stretch again, the gentle memory of her grandmother's meddling warming the room. Yet there was an undercurrent beneath the surface—things they weren't addressing, shadows that loomed over their reunion. And Ada could feel that weight settle on her chest when she thought of her brother, Auden.

"Have you... learned anything?" she asked, her tone shifting, softer but more tense. She kept her gaze averted, fingers fiddling with the edge of her sleeve.

Devereaux sighed, leaning back slightly. His face became more guarded, his expression sharpening as he nodded. "Yes. I have some information. Gan... he's hiding Auden. In a cave deep within Sambili Forest."

A flash of urgency flared in Ada's eyes. She gripped the edge of the table, leaning closer, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Then let's go. I need to get him out of there. He's my brother, Dev—I can't just leave him."

Devereaux held up a hand, stopping her, his voice steady but firm. "Ada, rushing in without a plan isn't going to help him. You're walking into Gan's territory. If you fail again, there's no guarantee you'll get a second chance, and no one—not even I—will be able to stop him from doing whatever he wants."

Ada's expression tightened, her shoulders taut with frustration. "So what am I supposed to do? Just sit back and wait? He's in danger, Dev. Every minute I spend here is another minute he's suffering."

Devereaux met her gaze, his expression softening slightly. "I'm not saying we won't go after him. But you need to be prepared. Gan isn't just a threat to your brother. He's tied to you—more than you realize."

She looked away, her jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to argue. But Devereaux wasn't done. He took a breath, the intensity returning to his gaze as he finally addressed what they had both been avoiding.

"Before you even think about facing him," he continued, his voice low and resolute, "you need to tame the part of him that's inside you—the soul fragment. If you don't learn to control it, he'll have a hold over you, a way to weaken you when you need your strength the most."

Ada's gaze snapped back to him, her expression a mixture of surprise and defiance. "Tame...? And how am I supposed to do that?"

Devereaux leaned in, his eyes unwavering as he spoke. "I'll help you. It won't be easy, but a demon knows how to deal with other demons. I have ways... methods that can teach you control, show you how to fight him from the inside."

A/N: A longer chapter cause I haven't updated in a while :) Enjoy!