The Touch Of Warmth

The meadow was alive with laughter. Harmony knelt among the playful children as they darted after tiny balls, their joyous screams rippling through the open air like music carried by the wind. Her soft laughter wove into theirs, bright and unguarded, a melody that seemed to momentarily wash the world clean of every sorrow. In that moment, nothing else mattered—only sunlight, green grass, and innocent joy.

Yet, at the edge of the field, another presence lingered.

Evander stood in silence, half-veiled by tall grass and shadow. His eyes were calm, but no longer cold; they carried something restless beneath the surface. Every subtle shift betrayed the tension he hid—his fists, curled just enough to show restraint, the taut line of his shoulders, his stance coiled as though prepared to move at the slightest threat. He wasn’t simply observing. He was guarding. Protecting.

Why am I here? The question pressed in his chest, yet his feet refused to move. His gaze was shackled to her.

Harmony felt it before she saw it—that steady, silent presence that clung to the air like heat. When her eyes brushed against his, her breath hitched. Her heart lurched in her chest, warmth flooding her cheeks. Quickly—too quickly—she turned her attention back to the children, biting her lip. Not again… I’ll just end up blushing…

But instinct betrayed her. Her fingers lingered nervously at the hem of her dress, her chest tightening with awareness.

Evander’s breath slowed. Without thought, he stepped closer. Not too close—just enough that the invisible line between them shifted. He moved as though drawn forward by a thread he hadn’t realized existed, by something that had long ago slipped beyond his control.

Finally, he approached. His steps were measured, deliberate, yet there was a quiet playfulness hidden within, like he was testing fate itself.

The children noticed him before Harmony did. Their excited play slowed, footsteps tapping softer against the grass. One by one, they drifted aside, as if nature itself conspired to give the two space. Bright, curious eyes peeked at them, but not a word was spoken.

Evander stopped just before her. His gaze remained steady, serious, yet softer than ever. He leaned forward, almost imperceptibly, like a question asked without voice.

“...May I join you?” His voice was a whisper, careful, neither cold nor warm, but laced with something fragile—like an unspoken hope.

Harmony’s breath caught. She dared a glance at him, then quickly lowered her eyes. A tiny nod escaped her before she could think better of it. Words abandoned her, yet her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Despite the rush of nervousness, an unfamiliar warmth wrapped around her. With him near, she felt… safe.

Evander’s brows lifted, and the faintest curve touched his lips. A smile so small, so fleeting, it could have been imagined. Yet it was real. Hmph… Perhaps I’ve been living in delusion all this time… he thought, almost amused, almost shaken.

Harmony froze. Her chest tightened, her eyes widening ever so slightly. Had she truly just seen him smile? His face remained composed, but deep within those dark eyes was a glimmer—something unspoken, something only she could see.

Then, the children returned. With giggles and tugging hands, they pulled Harmony back into play. Evander lingered just behind her, silent as ever, but their innocent joy nudged him closer to her side, step by hesitant step.

“Let’s make a tunnel!” one of the children said. Small hands reached up, urging Harmony and Evander to clasp hands above their heads.

Harmony stiffened. Heat rushed to her face, panic fluttering in her chest. Evander noticed instantly. His expression shifted—no longer distant, but firm. Without hesitation, he reached out, and his hand enveloped hers.

Warmth.

His grip was steady, neither forceful nor fragile, but balanced—assured. Harmony shivered, her entire body alive with the touch.

The children ran beneath their joined hands, laughter echoing as they passed through the tunnel. Joy filled the meadow, yet Evander’s gaze never wavered. He held his mask of calm, but within him, something stirred violently.

Her hands… why are they so warm? Why does it feel like they’re tethering me to something real? My heart… the heart I’ve buried for so long—it betrays me now.

Harmony forced a smile for the children, but her heart refused to settle. Something in his eyes… it’s different this time. Why does he look at me like that? Did I finally break that wall around him?

The game ended—too soon—leaving a silence that clung to the air. The children tugged Harmony away, dragging her into another burst of laughter, until she slipped from Evander’s side.

He remained still, glancing down at the hand that had just held hers. His fingers twitched faintly, remembering her warmth. Slowly, he exhaled.

What’s happening to me? Is it possible… to feel warmth, without losing strength?

For the first time in years, he closed his eyes and found no echoes of war in the silence. Instead, he heard only the steady, stubborn beat of his own heart.

No. I mustn’t… And yet… perhaps, just for a moment, I’ll allow myself to think of her.

The next day, Evander paced the palace corridors, his boots striking softly against the marble. Restless. Uneasy. Her name clung to his mind, whispering through him with every step. Her eyes. That gentle, trembling touch. That smile.

Why can’t I stop thinking of her?

Drawn by instinct, his steps carried him toward the children’s chamber. Pride told him to turn away. Duty told him to stop. But his heart refused.

He neared the doorway, and then—froze.

Soft laughter drifted out, warm, unmistakable. A laugh he already knew.

Harmony.

She was there, her hair touched by sunlight, her smile bright and unguarded. The sight of her struck him harder than he cared to admit.

She’s here…

Time stilled. His chest tightened. And though he didn’t step inside, though he remained in the shadows, Evander knew his heart had already betrayed him—racing wildly, surrendering to something he could no longer ignore.