Someone shoved a sparkler into a kid’s hand. Another voice called for blankets. A burst of laughter cut through the night.
Normal.
It should’ve felt normal.
It didn’t.
Not with that awareness still riding under his skin.
It sat there, tight and restless, like it hadn’t found a place to land yet.
Not with the way his body hadn’t quite settled back into itself.
Sage slowed, scanning automatically out of habit more than anything—tree line, open field, shadows, movement—
—and then he turned—
—and walked straight into him.
Solid. Warm. Unmoving.
The impact jolted through his chest, knocking his breath off rhythm.
The impact stopped him short, the hard wall of muscle in Law’s chest firm against him.
Law’s hand came up fast, closing around his arm, steadying him.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Didn’t move.
Sage’s breath caught, the contact electric where Law’s fingers held him.
The heat of it spread fast, sharp and immediate, settling low before he could stop it.
He caught the subtle scent of Law’s body wash—something warm, grounded, unmistakably him—and it only made the moment hit harder.
He knew that grip. Steady. Certain.
Law moved close—closer than they’d been all night.
The space between them narrowed until there wasn’t room to ignore it anymore.
The first firework launched with a sharp whistle, streaking up into the sky.
A second later, it burst—white and gold exploding high over the distant skyline, light washing across the field in a sudden flare.
For a heartbeat, everything lit up.
Faces. Movement. Space.
And Law.
Right there.
Close enough that there was no pretending there was distance anymore.
Every shift of his body registered, impossible to miss.
