Jora leaned against the doorframe, watching Sage relax in the warm water, her gaze softening. She could tell from the way his shoulders loosened, the way he just... settled into the quiet, that he was starting to feel it—the relief, the safety, the stillness he needed. She didn’t say anything at first. He was quiet, contemplative, and she didn’t want to disturb that space. But the simplicity of his words hit her in ways that made her heart swell. She could hear the weight of it, all that was unspoken.

"I know," he said, and it wasn’t just a statement. It was everything. She could feel the trust there, the openness. It wasn’t often someone let themselves be that vulnerable, not like this. Not like him.

She smiled softly, her fingers brushing against the wood of the door as if to touch him without physically interrupting his moment. "You don’t have to thank me for that," she whispered, almost to herself. "I meant it... all of it."

She could tell that in the quiet, in the warmth, in the way he’d allowed himself to be real with her, something was shifting. She wanted him to feel that, to know that this was a space where he didn't have to hold anything back. Where he could just be. And she would be right there with him.