Illaria's Point of View

I still tasted the burnt remnants of BBQ in the back of my throat.

The kind of flavor that clung stubbornly, almost like it was mocking me—an unpleasant reminder of that last round of ribs.

Overindulgence wasn't something I did often, but tonight, I'd crossed the line.

Three plates of ribs? Definitely excessive.

But here we were, at the end of a long, chaotic stretch. I wiped a stray bit of sauce off my chin and glanced down at my phone screen, the soft glow cutting through the dim light of the living room.

"Maybe next time, we call it a night before the third round of ribs," I muttered under my breath, swiping the notification away with a sigh.

Across from me, Devon, who'd been quietly observing me the whole time, raised an eyebrow. "You okay?" His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes — eyes that, despite the calm, never quite hid the weight of the past few days.

The mission was over. SkyGod, that relentless entity that had threatened everything we knew, was gone. The countdown—the time bomb that had haunted us for so long, had stopped. And yet, as I sat there, wrapped in the warmth of Almond's home, the relief felt muted. Almost like a murmur beneath the surface.

"I'm fine," I said, maybe a little too quickly. The sharpness in my voice didn't match the calm I was trying to project. "Just... the aftereffects of too much of everything." I waved my hand in a vague gesture, like I could push the unease away with a flick of my wrist.

Devon didn't press further. Instead, he gave that half-smile, the kind I was starting to recognize as his way of letting go of the tension. The smile that said he wasn't quite comfortable with the situation, but he was trying.

"We're in the clear. It's done," he said softly, almost like he was reassuring himself more than me.

It was done. The countdown had stopped, SkyGod had been eliminated at the root, and everything that had been driving us for so long was over. But somehow, the air didn't feel as clear as it should. It was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something else to emerge from the silence.

I leaned back into the couch, glancing around the cozy room. The soft hum of conversation from the Almonds drifted from the kitchen, where Theo and his parents were sorting out the dishes.

The atmosphere was different here — so much quieter than the sterile, high-stakes environment I was used to. There was no countdown here. No ticking clock. Just the simple, unassuming warmth of a family meal.

It almost felt... foreign.

The soft click of the clock on the wall reminded me that time never truly stopped, even when everything else did. But for now, I could breathe.

I wasn't physically there when they took the final step. I didn't need to be. I had already handed them everything—every last shred of intel that would turn the tide. The details. The critical piece of information that would be the key to shutting it all down.

Devon had asked me to stay. He'd wanted me there for the final move. To witness it. But I knew better. I trusted them—trusted him—to handle it.

I remember walking out of the control room, my footsteps echoing in the sterile hallways, the weight of the moment still pressing on my chest. SkyGod's threat hadn't been eliminated yet, but the pieces had fallen into place. I knew there was no more for me to do. Not then.

Back in the room, I could almost feel the intensity of the air. Devon was standing in front of the console, his fingers hovering above the keys, waiting for the perfect moment. The final countdown flashed on the screens before him—each number inching closer to zero. His face was grim, but I didn't see panic. I saw control. Calm. Precision. A stillness that belied the storm we'd just weathered.

I couldn't help but pace in the hallway outside. Every second felt like an eternity. What if something went wrong? What if one miscalculation—the wrong keystroke—sent everything into chaos?

But Devon wasn't the same man I'd first met. I could feel the quiet confidence in him. He had grown into this role, into the chaos, into everything that had been thrust upon him.

Then, the sound. A quiet click.

The countdown stopped. SkyGod was eliminated.

Thinking back to that day, even though it has been a few days since then, I couldn't shake the strange, lingering feeling that there was more to it than just a victory.

It wasn't just the mission that had changed.

We had changed. Me. Devon.

Everything. There was a shift, barely noticeable, but it was there. And I didn't know what to make of it yet.

Devon, who had been content to help me with my coat when I arrived, still seemed... different. The awkwardness that had once seemed so part of him was now more endearing. Not forced. Not guarded. Just... there. Simple. Real.

I smiled as I watched him in the kitchen, awkwardly arranging the salad. His younger brother was off to the side, handling the drinks, but it was Devon's clumsy focus that caught my attention.

"I didn't know you could cook," I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

Devon paused mid-motion, then looked at me, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I can handle the basics," he said, but I could hear the hesitation in his voice. "Nothing fancy. Just... salad."

I grinned, stepping closer. "You mean, with pineapple in a vegetable salad?"

He chuckled softly, his cheeks flushing just a little. "Hey, pineapple does work in salad!" he defended, showing a hint of emotions that he didn't before.

It feels nice to seen the wooden stake to finally show some emotions on his face.

But it still doesn't defend him from putting pineapple in a vegetable salad. According to me, that's a crime.

"I bet you could convince me otherwise." I leaned in, grinning. "I might just let you cook for me sometime."

There it was again. That small shift. Something in the way he softened, just a little, in the way his face changed when he said, almost shyly, "Maybe... maybe I can do that. Dinner sometime... just the two of us?"

I wasn't used to hearing him speak so directly, without all the formalities and shields he used to hide behind. But in that moment, it felt genuine. Real.

"I'd like that," I replied, my voice softer than I intended.

The evening continued, the conversation flowing easily between us, but there was something else. The subtle shift in the air between us—the way our smiles lingered a little longer than before, the quiet glances exchanged when we thought no one was looking. There was no rush. No urgency. Just a simple, steady rhythm we were beginning to figure out.

Later, as the night came to a close and everyone began to say their goodbyes, Devon walked me to my car. He didn't try to kiss me. He didn't try anything overtly romantic, but when his hand brushed mine as we stood there, the soft, careful way he looked at me...

I could hear the unspoken words between us. It wasn't a confession. It wasn't anything overt. It was just a promise. A quiet understanding that we were both stepping into something new. Something slower. But real.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, his voice softer than usual, like he wasn't sure what came next.

I nodded, feeling that warmth grow between us. "Yeah. Tomorrow. Same time."

As I drove away, I wasn't thinking about the future or the mission or anything else. For the first time in a long while, I wasn't worried. Because I knew that whatever came next, we would figure it out.

Together.

I took a deep breath, trying to savour the silence that stretched between us in the room. The remnants of the evening, the soft clink of silverware and the quiet hum of the city beyond the windows, still felt like a dream. Devon, sitting across from me, fiddled with his cup—an awkward, endearing habit I was starting to notice more these days.

There was something... different about him now. The walls he used to hide behind were crumbling, piece by piece, and in their place, something real, something human, was beginning to show through.

I liked it.

He caught me staring, his gaze softening. "What?"

I smiled, leaning back in my chair. "You've changed."

Devon blinked, looking puzzled, then gave a small shrug, his lips tugging into a half-smile. "For better or worse?"

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "For better."

Thankfully!

He didn't respond immediately, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his cup. A few seconds passed in comfortable silence before he cleared his throat, looking a little shy. "You know... I, uh... I might not be the best at this. But I do want to try. With you."

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, my heart skipping a beat. This wasn't the Devon I'd met months ago—the man who'd been so guarded, so... wooden. This was someone willing to put himself out there, to take a chance.

Before I could respond, he added, "I don't know how to do all this romantic stuff, but I'm willing to learn."

I raised an eyebrow playfully. "You? Learning romance?" I teased, my tone light but the smile tugging at my lips sincere.

Devon's ears flushed a faint pink, and he looked down at his cup, clearly flustered. "I can figure it out. I'm good with, you know... things that matter. The bigger picture."

"Is that so?" I leaned forward, my gaze softening. "Well, then, what about the little things? The ones that matter, too?"

He looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine, and for a brief moment, the world outside the room disappeared. "Like?"

"Hey, you have to figure that out. Oh, by the way, I like a little old school romance."

I even gave you the hint, Devon, best of luck!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello Sweeties,

Next chapter is here. Enjoy!

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Finally, the sand has settled down and everything is back to normal. 

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Will Illaria and Devon finally find their own pace and settle down in live together?

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Lady Prim