The night air was still warm.

It clung to the skin in a way that felt suffocating, heavy and unmoving, as if the wind itself had decided to stop. Even the faint breeze from earlier had disappeared, leaving nothing behind but stillness and heat that refused to ease.

A few hours after dinner, Lyra and Ren lay on the top deck, staring up at the dark sky as the yacht rocked gently beneath them. It wasn’t planned or spoken about—it just happened naturally. The heat had driven both of them to the place that felt most comfortable: the top deck.

Ren shifted uncomfortably, letting out a soft breath.

“What time is it?”

His voice came out sharp, irritation slipping through.

“I don’t know.”

Her voice followed, softer—calmer in contrast to his.

“Go downstairs and check the clock.”

Lyra let out a quiet breath.

“Isn’t it rude to order people around? I’m a celebrity, you know.”

Ren stayed quiet for a second.

“Celebrity or not, you can’t do anything about the situation we’re in right now.”

“I know…” Lyra murmured, not arguing.

They fell into silence again. Neither of them moved. It's not because it was comfortable, but because there wasn't much to do. 

The heat kept pressing down on them like a thick blanket that wouldn’t lift. There was no electricity at all. The entire yacht had gone dark hours ago, which meant no air-conditioning, no chargers, no proper lighting. Only a few solar lights remained, dimly illuminating certain areas—a precaution high-end yachts took for emergencies.

Ren suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbows, slightly struggling.

“Ugh, this sucks. Phones are dead. Nothing works.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Yeah… I know,” Lyra said calmly, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. She looked like she was trying to accept the situation.

Ren let out a short breath, staring up at the sky before looking away.

“Well, I’ll go grab something to eat then.”

“Sure,” she replied, her tone unchanged.

Ren headed down to the bottom deck, muttering to himself as he went.

Damn it… it’s so hot and we have no power at all. I wish I knew how to fix the damn engines.

Meanwhile, Lyra stayed on the top deck, seemingly unbothered by the heat, lost in whatever the bizarre situation was making her feel.

I wish I could listen to some music right now.

Music came to her naturally. Some might call it a gift, but she had always seen it her own way.

The quiet night, the endless stretch of ocean, the way everything felt slowed down—it all stayed with her. Like something unfinished, waiting for her to complete it.

If she had the choice, she might’ve stayed like this forever.

Alone. 

… 

“Hey, I brought you some food.”

His voice broke through her thoughts. 

She turned. 

Ren stood behind her, holding a plate with both hands as if it weighed more than it should. Scrambled eggs, a couple of toasts, with a spoon and fork placed neatly on the sides.

She hadn’t heard him come up. For a second, she wondered how long he had been standing there, her gaze drifting to the plate. 

Lyra’s eyes widened slightly.

Eggs again?

A small wave of annoyance passed through her, but she kept her expression polite.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do this. Thank you so much,” she said with a faint smile.

“You’re welcome.” Ren smiled, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

“Are you not gonna eat?”

“I already did.”

She paused. His words lingered for a second. 

He probably ate eggs again too… 

She picked at the eggs with her fork.

“What did you eat, may I ask?”

“Ramen… with pork belly.”

She froze.

Of course you did! 

She stared at him for a moment. 

Where did you even get the pork belly…

“Ah… okay!” she said, continuing to eat as if nothing had happened.

—

After finishing the plate, Lyra stood up and went downstairs to wash it. When she returned to the top deck, she said softly,

“Goodnight.”

Ren blinked, slightly caught off guard.

“Isn’t it too hot in that room?” he asked.

“It can be, but I’ll manage.”

Lyra walked straight to her master bedroom and closed the door.

—

Ren stayed on the deck, resting his back against the railing. The heat was unbearable. He pulled his shirt off and lay back down, staring up at the night sky.

It’s getting really hot…

He shifted again, turning onto his side as his back unstuck itself from the floor, damp with sweat.

“Someone please do something about this situation!” he said out loud, unable to bear it any longer, almost like a prayer.

Not even a second later, a single drop of rain hit his forehead.

He blinked.

“Oh… you’ve got to be kidding me…”