The door clicked softly behind them.
Sunlight spilled across the floor.
Leah stepped inside first.
Slow.
Careful.
Izana followed.
Cast still heavy.
Each step deliberate.
Measured.
"…Careful," she murmured.
Eyes tracking him.
He smirked faintly.
"…I'm fine."
"…You've said that before," she replied.
Eyebrow raised.
He chuckled.
Shaking his head.
"…This time, truly."
Her lips curved slightly.
Unconvinced.
A flicker of amusement passed over his expression.
"…Still watching me."
"…Still injured," she said.
Flat.
He flexed his fingers.
Testing the cast's restraint.
"…You repeat that a lot."
"…Because I need to make sure you're not pretending," she countered.
He exhaled.
Leaning lightly against the doorframe.
"…Touché."
The nurse stepped in.
Tray in hand.
Cast removal tools gleaming under the light.
"…Morning, Mr. Izana. Ready?"
"…very," he replied.
Voice calm.
Slightly amused.
Leah stifled a laugh.
"…Even your bravado looks injured."
"…Careful," he warned.
Raising his left hand.
"…I could still take you down."
"…With one arm?"
"…Especially with one arm," he said.
Smirk flickering.
The doctor approached.
Eyes widening at the sight of the decorated cast.
"…Well…unusual," he murmured.
Leah crouched beside him.
Brushing stray hair from his forehead.
"…Artistic recovery," she said softly.
"…Under strict supervision."
Izana flexed again.
Testing strength.
"…Distracted a full room."
Hearts.
Crowns.
Tiny doodles.
Entire meeting.
All eyes on this arm.
Leah traced one of the hearts.
With her finger.
"…Your masterpiece," she whispered.
"…Unapologetic."
He smirked faintly.
"…They couldn't stop staring."
Completely captivated.
"…And you let them," she teased.
Leaning closer.
"…Sly boss."
"…I let them."
A pause.
"…Because it was yours," he murmured.
The cast buzzed lightly.
The saw bit through.
Pieces falling away.
Small.
Controlled fragments.
He flinched slightly.
Careful to keep his left hand steady.
"…Careful," Leah whispered.
"…No new injuries, please."
"…I'm fine," he said.
"…I trust them."
The cast came off completely.
Pale skin.
Faint ink stains.
Soft bruises underneath.
Izana flexed.
Testing movement.
"…Feels good," he admitted quietly.
Leah's fingers drifted over the remnants.
Light.
Careful.
"…Almost miss them," she said softly.
"…So you. So us."
He raised an eyebrow.
"…You actually like it?"
"…I do," she replied.
"…Every mark, every heart."
"…Then I'll keep them in memory," he murmured.
"…Even after they fade."
The doctor examined his arm.
Carefully.
"…Bone fully healed."
"…Excellent recovery."
"…No complications."
"…Good," Izana exhaled softly.
"…Back to action soon enough."
Leah's thumb brushed his knuckles.
Slow.
"…Stronger than I expected."
He let out a slow breath.
Chuckling softly.
"…And I exceeded expectations."
She leaned closer.
"…Don't let it go to your head."
"…Too late," he replied.
Voice low.
"…But I don't mind."
They sat together.
Sunlight washing over them.
Fingers brushing.
Hands resting.
Quiet touches.
"…You're really healed," Leah whispered.
"…Completely."
"…I am," he replied.
"…Stronger than I realized myself."
"…Don't push it," she warned.
Thumb lingering on his hand.
He let the quiet settle.
"…These marks…"
A pause.
"…memories of safer times."
"…Safer?" she echoed softly.
"…You almost died."
"…Not yet," he said.
Voice calm.
"…Thanks to you."
Her eyes softened.
"…Always thanks to me," she murmured.
"…Always by your side."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
Then to her forehead.
Slow.
Careful.
"…I admit defeat," he said quietly.
"…For now."
"…Eventually," she replied.
"…You always do."
"…Fine," he exhaled softly.
"…For now."
Sunlight climbed higher.
Spilling across the floor.
Across the bed.
No rush.
No obligations.
No threats.
Just warmth.
Quiet.
Laughter.
Fingers intertwined.
Small touches.
Small smiles.
The nurse and doctor exchanged amused glances.
At the faint doodles still visible.
"…Most unusual cast," the doctor murmured.
"…But an excellent recovery."
Leah grinned at him.
"…See?"
"…Even professionals approve of your distractions."
He shook his head.
A quiet chuckle escaping him.
"…Impossible."
A pause.
"…And I like that."
"…I know," she whispered.
"…You always do."
Soft.
Steady quiet.
Endless sunlight.
A few minutes later—
They settled in the living room.
Leah sank into the couch.
Pulling a blanket across her legs.
Izana eased into the armchair opposite her.
Stretching his left arm carefully.
"…Feels strange," he said.
Glancing at his free arm.
"…Like I've been half myself for weeks."
She reached across.
Brushing his hand gently.
"…Half?"
A pause.
"…You were fully you with me."
"…True," he admitted.
Lips twitching.
"…But the cast…"
"…made everything feel slower."
"…Slower can be nice sometimes," she said softly.
"…Gives time to notice small things."
He tilted his head.
Considering her.
"…Like what?"
"…Like me," she replied.
Teasing.
"…Watching you recover."
"…Making sure you eat."
"…Laughing at your stubbornness."
He chuckled softly.
"…I should be insulted…"
A pause.
"…that your favorite pastime is my injury."
"…I'm not insulting," she said.
"…I'm cherishing."
The quiet settled.
Warmth wrapped around them.
"…Li," he said after a moment.
"…Would you like to go somewhere tomorrow?"
A pause.
"…Just…get out of the mansion."
Her brows lifted.
"…Somewhere?"
"…Out of here?"
He nodded slowly.
"…No business."
"…No obligations."
A breath.
"…Just…us."
"…Air."
"…Sunlight. Even if it's winter."
"…Anywhere you want."
A soft smile curved her lips.
"…That sounds…perfect."
"…Then it's settled," he said.
Leaning back in the chair.
"…We pick a place in the morning."
A beat.
"…You choose."
She chuckled quietly.
"…I'll make sure it's somewhere relaxing."
"…No drama."
"…Exactly what I need," he murmured.
Eyes soft.
"…And I need you to enjoy it."
"…I always do," she replied.
"…With you."
He let out a slow breath.
"…Then let's make it a day for ourselves."
The afternoon light shifted.
Casting long shadows across the room.
They stayed together.
Quiet conversation.
Fingers brushing occasionally.
Small laughs escaping.
No rush.
No pressure.
Just the warmth of being together.
Izana's cast-free arm rested comfortably.
On the arm of the chair.
Leah's hand found his again.
"…Tomorrow," she whispered.
"…I'll hold you to that."
"…And I'll make sure it's perfect," he said softly.
The room remained calm.
The house quiet.
Outside—
Life moved fast.
Chaotic.
Inside—
Time slowed.
Sunlight.
Fingers entwined.
Shared smiles.
Warmth.
Everything outside could wait.
For now—
They had this.
And that was more than enough.