The sun had dipped beyond the horizon a while ago, the mountain breeze turning cooler, but the lake down the slope shimmered like glass—crystalline and untouched, wrapped in the hush of early evening under the moon light. Buer had already slipped from his arms with that impish sparkle back in her eyes, though it was gentler now, softened by everything they'd just shared.
"I'm going," she said breezily, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "With or without you."
Kyle raised an eyebrow, watching her skip down the hill, barefoot and light, her silver hair catching the last rays of the sun. "You always bathe in that lake when you're upset?"
"Only when I've cried enough to refill it," she tossed over her shoulder.
A moment later, she was by the water's edge, already shrugging off her outer robe with practiced ease. Kyle averted his gaze quickly—out of reflex more than modesty—but she laughed.
"Oh, come on. You've seen me naked before. Many, many times, if I recall correctly."
"That was when I was little," he muttered.
"And now you're not," she chirped. "But that's not an excuse is it?"
He didn't know how to reply. And worse, she knew it.
With a long sigh—and maybe a traitorous smile—Kyle followed, boots crunching softly against the grass until he reached the lakeside. By then, Buer had already waded in waist-deep, the clear water lapping gently against her smooth skin. Moonlight now filtered through the high clouds, casting a silvery glow that clung to her like silk.
The moon hung low over the lake like a watching sentinel, its light veiled through thin wisps of cloud. The surface of the water shimmered like molten silver, broken only by the gentle ripples that followed Buer as she drifted further in, waist-deep, her arms floating just above the surface like a water lily in bloom.
Kyle stood at the edge, silent.
Watching her.
And for the first time, he allowed himself to really look.
The way the moonlight kissed her skin—it wasn't just beautiful. It was unreal. Ethereal. Her figure, delicate and soft, moved with a natural grace, bare shoulders gleaming with droplets that caught the light like scattered stars. Her back was turned to him, silver hair wet and clinging down her spine like silk threads, swaying gently with the water.
She turned slightly, just enough for him to glimpse her side profile—cheek flushed faintly from the cool air, lips parted softly, eyes half-lidded with something between contentment and invitation.
"You're still dressed," she murmured.
He swallowed.
"I'm still stunned," he replied, his voice quieter than before, almost reverent.
She smiled, small and slow, but it carried a heat that rippled out like the warmth beneath the water's surface.
"Well, come in before you start glowing red."
With a breath, Kyle stepped forward. His boots slipped off, then his shirt, then everything else, deliberate and slow—not out of shyness, but respect. As if each movement honored the moment. By the time he stepped into the water, it was like slipping through the border between dream and waking. Cool at first. Then warm. Comforting. As if the lake had chosen to wrap around him like her.
She turned fully to face him.
And in that moment—his breath caught.
Buer stood with the water curling just below her hips, moonlight cascading down her like a curtain of silver. Her breasts, soft and perfect, just barely above the surface, were kissed by moonlight and shadow in equal measure. Her skin was luminous, her body unhidden and utterly unashamed, her expression open—not seductive, not teasing. Just herself. Beautiful. Honest. Free.
Kyle didn't know where to look, and yet he couldn't stop looking. Every inch of her form held a familiarity born of childhood, layered now with the ache of newfound understanding—of attraction, of awe, of something that had always been there but only now found breath.
"Still stunned?" she asked, voice playful, but softer than usual.
He nodded.
"You look like... like you belong here," he said. "Like the lake was made to hold you."
She tilted her head, and something unreadable flickered through her eyes—something deep. She stepped toward him slowly, the water barely parting between them.
"And you," she whispered, "look like you were meant to find me here."
They met in the shallows, only a breath of space between them.
And then—her hand rose, gentle, fingers trailing up his chest, water beading and catching on his skin. She touched his collarbone, then the side of his neck, and finally cupped his cheek, thumb brushing just below his eye.
He leaned into it.
She was so warm.
"I'm not teasing anymore," she said quietly. "Not right now."
"I know."
Her other hand slid around his waist, fingers grazing the small of his back, and he pulled her into him without thinking—slow, careful, but firm. Their bare bodies touched, finally, with no barriers between them. Skin to skin. Breath to breath.
Buer let out a soft sound, almost a sigh, as her forehead rested against his.
The lake held them. The night held them.
Her fingers tangled in his damp hair. His hands skimmed along her waist, feeling every delicate curve, every breath she took.
She melted in his arms pressing herself against his chest like she was at home.
Buer let out a small hum of satisfaction, nuzzling her cheek into Kyle's collarbone as she nestled against him. The warmth of their bodies beneath the surface created a cocoon of comfort, even as the mountain breeze skimmed across the lake's surface. The water lapped gently around their waists now, their breaths slow and even.
Kyle guided them back toward a shallow rock shelf near the edge, half-submerged beneath the water. He sat first, leaning against the smooth stone, and pulled her with him, her slender form settling into his lap without hesitation. Her legs draped across his, and her arms looped lazily around his neck. She looked thoroughly pleased, flushed from the water and affection alike.
"I'm comfy," she declared. "I might not move for a thousand years."
"You say that like I wouldn't let you," he replied, wrapping his arms around her back and resting his chin atop her damp hair. "Not a bad way to be immortalized, honestly."
"Surprisingly," she murmured. "Your lap makes an excellent throne."
"Do you plan to replace your throne in Sumeru with my lap?"
"Mmh," she murmured in agreement. "Statue of the God of Wisdom cuddled up in a hot boy's lap. I can already hear the scandalized gasps in the Akademiya."
Kyle chuckled. "They'd probably write ten scrolls on how it's an allegory for the duality of reason and pleasure."
Buer snorted, then giggled—high and musical, like bells chiming on a breeze. "Please. They once wrote a whole thesis about my hat. A hat, Kyle. Thirty pages. All footnoted."
"That hat was enormous," he said, half-smirking. "It deserved an entire chapter just for physics."
She giggled "I should get you a matching one" looking at him adoringly she kisses top of his nose tip.
Kyle blinked, nose twitching slightly from the kiss as he gave her a helpless sort of smile—the kind of smile he never showed anyone but her. The moonlight caught the wet glisten on his skin, the flush in his cheeks, and the quiet gleam of affection in his eyes as he looked at the archon curled up in his lap like she belonged there.
"A matching one?" he echoed. "You want me to wear a hat big enough to create its own weather system?"
"Yes," Buer said solemnly, as if it were divine mandate. "A truly ridiculous one. With feathers. And maybe a little bell."
Kyle laughed, pressing his forehead lightly against hers. "So I can announce my presence with a jingle wherever I go?"
"Exactly." She poked his chest playfully. "That way I always know when my emotional support human is approaching."
"I see," he said, voice low and teasing. "So I'm your pet now?"
She leaned back slightly, feigning deep thought. "Pet, pillow, lap throne, occasional emotional hostage…" She tilted her head and gave him an exaggerated pout. "You're multi-functional."
He sighed in mock resignation. "I knew getting into a bath with you was a trap."
Buer grinned, absolutely pleased with herself. She let her hands rest on his shoulders, fingers gently tracing along the lines of muscle beneath his skin, the motion absentminded but affectionate. "You love it. Admit it."
Kyle met her gaze. "I do," he said softly. "I really do."
For a moment, the mischief faded from her expression, replaced by something more vulnerable—gentle and open, the kind of look she rarely let anyone see. She rested her head back on his shoulder again, her hair clinging wetly to his chest.
"Mhm careful your master and fiancee would get jealous" she bops his nose playfully with a serene smile on her lips.
Kyle's stomach did a flip as he realized he seemed to be entangled with too many women?