"I prefer this," Sebastian said softly, slipping his arm around Valerie's waist.
A few minutes later, the steaks were plated. They sat around a sturdy, slightly lopsided wooden picnic table that Corbin had built the day before.
There were no grand speeches. There were no toasts to fallen comrades or solemn vows to protect the universe. They just ate. They laughed as Corbin accidentally spilled his water, and they made fun of Wraith for cutting his steak into perfectly symmetrical, mathematically precise squares.
It was utterly, blissfully normal.
When the sun finally dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep shades of indigo and violet, Galleon, Wraith, and Corbin packed up the plates and headed back down the hill toward the main town.
Sebastian and Valerie walked back inside their quiet cabin.
