They remained at the embrasure while the light continued to thin. The distant ridges lost their sharper edges and settled into softer shapes. Elizabeth kept her hands on the stone sill.
After a moment Aiden shifted closer so that the outside of his arm rested fully against hers. The contact was deliberate and unhurried. The residual lock registered it as a low, steady warmth and did not ask for more.
"I used to measure everything by how much it cost," Elizabeth said. "Time, residual stability, emotional ground. If something didn't require survival first, I treated it as optional."
Aiden's gaze stayed on the darkening slopes. "I did the same. Movement felt safer than standing still. Standing still meant noticing what you actually wanted."
"And now?"
"Now I notice." He turned his head toward her. "I want the ordinary stretches. I want the versions of us that exist when nothing is on fire and we're still choosing to stay in the same place."
