[Author's Note]: Hello, all!

Sorry about the annoyingly short chapters, but these scenes last for mere minutes. I try to stretch them out for longer, and thus, this chapter was augmented. A measly 200 words extra (or so). I did not mention anything with the previous chapter, and I'm sorry about that.

Thanks to KeybladeKnight39 and ultimateCCCfor reviewing! I really appreciate them, knowing how small this fandom is, currently.

Well, I hope you enjoy this scene: Pyra and Rex's bonfire scene (end of Ch. 2). Don't own it.

[Pyra]

The sharp pain that elicits a groan from Rex shoots straight through my arm at the same time. I try to hold in any noises, but I don't really manage to. Luckily, Rex exaggerates his enough, so I can just hide mine behind his. I think I even flinch, but all I can see is Rex curling in on himself.

Letting go of the bandage I'd been holding around his arm, I grimace at his contorted face of pain. "I'm sorry. Did I wrap it too tightly?" It's like I don't know what to do with him; kind of just putting my arms out for comfort, but without contact. I'm unsure of whether to hold his arm more, or to touch the bandage, or to deal with my own, mirrored wound.

His head jerks up to look at me, and he tries to reassure me in the most Rex-like way possible. "It's fine!" he says, while smiling brightly, "I'm fine! See?"

Holding his arm out for me to see, he pumps his arm in the air, just slightly. I try not to think about his attempts to make me not worry, knowing that I am very much worried about this.

"I can swing it like this," he states.

The arm starts windmilling in front of our faces, but I try to keep my eyes on his own, betraying eyes. He's holding in some pain, yet making sure it doesn't show. He does more fist pumps into the air, above our heads. Something about his forearm all cut up, like it is, makes me worry about what other things he's holding back on.

"It doesn't even-" It seems that something jabs at him sharply, as he freezes and snaps his eyes wide open. "Ah, ah, oww!" Doubling over, he holds his arm and groans, again.

Giggling slightly, I look at his bandaged arm. "I knew it."

When he starts to straighten, I catch his gaze. Hopefully, he can see something more compassionate and caring than my gaze is right now, which is most likely just condescending. Nodding once, he drops the smile a little. "Thanks. I feel much better now," he says.

I duck my head slightly from praise. After all this time, I'm still unused to his complete courtesy for me. Does he realize what his words do to me? Does he even know what's happening to me at all?

"I'm sure that's Nia's poultice doing its job," I affirm while looking at him through the top of my eyes.. Glancing back over to the girl dozing off on Dromarch's large cat body, I nod at her. "Thanks."

Her cat ears perk up at my words targeted toward her, and she slowly opens her eyes to a smirking grin. Looking at us, she acknowledges our thankfulness to her with pride. Noooo problem, Poppi's robotic voice speaks through that smirk.

I start to bandage my own arm, knowing that it will be the same as Rex's. As our wounds are equivalent to each other, it would be smart to follow what works best for us. I guess the wrappings do their job, so I do the same for mine. I feel the sting on my arm as I set the casting wraps on my arm, just as I hear Rex say my name.

"Pyra, you're hurt too? Are you OK?"

Of course. Always being Rex to care for me, oblivious to everything else. It's his pride of protecting me, as is mine for him. Looking at me with wonder, he approaches with a helping hand.

"I'm fine," I reassure him. "It's just a scratch."

There. I used his own line against him, just like that.

He doesn't respond to that, though. Immediately, he's ready to help me in all ways he can, so he takes the roll of bandaging from me. "Hey, let me help." Taking where I left off, as in starting the process, he gently holds my arm.

Despite him being the one that's supposed to be feeling burn from touching me, I can only feel his touch coursing through my arm, doing better than any healing substance could. In fact, if he continues to hold me close to him, I won't even need any bandaging. As long as his heals, we'll be fine.

I'm just smiling, unable to stop. Distractedly, I stare at Rex's concentrated face. I hold back on every single muscle of my body to make sure I don't run my hands through that flop of hair, or caress the side of his face with my free hand, or anything else too rash or audacious.

Quietly, I thank him through the ambient sounds of the fire, in front of us.

He finishes up the job and says, "No worries. Least I can do," which makes me rethink about all of my life choices I've ever done.

I inspect his work on my arm from different angles, feeling much stronger than I had been a minute ago. Under my glove, it looks like a new design of a second skin. It's clean and straightforward, but I love it even more because Rex did the job himself. "Looks good."

The firelight shines many different angles onto the cast. There's something I can definitely tell, though.

"Um, Rex?"

I eye his own cast and scoot closer to him, very well aware of our bandaging being congruent. Leaning closer, I put my forearm right next to his, showing him that we have the same marks, leading to the same cast.

He stares at it for a second before shifting his gaze to me, which I feel being hotter than the fire. Doing my best to concentrate on the intricate weaving, I gently touch my arm to his. "Look. They're the same," I state pointedly.

He knows it, too. Without even needing to look at our bandages, he nods. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess they are."

Oh, Rex. Always trying to be humble, and doing his best to be a gentleman in all ways possible. Had he actually been oblivious to this fact, he'd be blushing profusely in one way or another. Of course, he takes it all in and lets it slide, just like the way he is.

I'm just laughing. With my arm still against his, I feel a flare of heat come from the fire. Barely glancing up, the effects of the heat against the night forestry is a beautiful complement. It's really something that I would never have been able to manifest if it weren't for Rex.

We both find ourselves mesmerized by the glowing embers and ashes floating in the air above us, circles of light dancing and twirling around one another; a swirl of warmth and ambience. This crackling barely affects any of the others, but it sets up a comfortable mood alternatively.

Azurda's ears peek out of the rim of Rex's Salvager helmet, twitching ever so often with his soft breaths. Tora's fur body completely at peace, eyes closed, and leaning into the mech of Poppi. Nia, silently watching from the seat of Dromarch's flank, is seemingly over-content with the night. Tipping her head, her eyelids droop down and she drifts off into her own Gormotti mind.

I lean back slightly and stare up, letting my arms support me comfortably.

"So beautiful."

Did I just say that? I think I did. Well, there's no taking it back, now. Just don't look at Rex from your left side and continue to stare at the surrealism in the air.

"Yeah, it really is," he responds, leaving me with a softening face and mind. I completely relax into the log we're sitting on, aware of the mood and its toll on my thoughts.

"I guess that's probably because you made it, Pyra…"

Oh!

It feels like a spurt of warmth burst within me as he says that. I'm blanking out at the fire, replaying these words in my mind.

Beautiful… yeah… probably because you made it, Pyra…

Something thaws out, despite me never being cold. Something is burning around my heart, and I feel lighter than a hot air balloon powered by my own fires.

Smiling isn't even enough to describe how much impact those simple words have on me. I feel like I can take on anyone that comes our way, single-handedly fell them to oblivion, and still have enough energy to resurrect them back to friendliness and take them over the clouds.

But I must realize that I'm probably gaping like an idiot at the firelight. I blink, then whip my head around to see Rex doing the exact same thing as I had done prior; blankly gaping at the lights in the air.

"Huh?" is all that I manage to force out of my mouth. Did I even hear him correctly? Did he really just say that the fire was beautiful because I made it, barely seconds after I had complimented the night's ambience?

His face slowly perks up, then he jerks in place and whirls around to face me. "Ahh! No, what?" Looking around, as if to find something else to blame for his strange words.

My gaze is latched on to his every movement, tracing his eyes and head bobbles determinedly. His eyes are full saucers, failing to pick out a different reason for this.

Inwardly, I'm heaving from laughter, sobbing, and elation.

Looking slightly scared, he says, "I didn't mean it like that! You're just, erm," he hesitated, stuttered. Scratching his head, rubbing his hands together, leaning on his elbows, gesturing to placate me somehow, his hands sure are busy, "really good at making fires…" Thoroughly mortified, he squeezes his eyes shut and turns back toward the fire. "That's all."

I don't know whether to thank him, to scold him, or to embrace him in a very forward way. Watching his ears redden for the umpteenth time, I instead smile with a calmness I don't expect from myself. "It's what I do." I summon a little ball of fire from my fingertips, feeling the spur of energy within myself and a blast of heat on my hand.

None of that can compare to the power I feel in my heart, right now.

He seems to uncurl himself from self-discomfited, angling toward my signature element in its truest form, right at my fingertips. I stretch my hand toward the rest of the particles in the sky, close my eyes, and blow it all out.

Spirals of magic swirl into the air, around my body, encasing my inner power with familiarity. Lines, staves, and orbs of light play their show for us, silently exuding a story of their own.

Still, the fire crackles indefinitely.

[Author's Note Pt. 2]: Just to clear things up, NO, THIS IS NOT A HAREM. If you pay attention to the actual story line (SPOILERS), Rex chooses which form is more relevant to him in Chapter 8, with the names and such. It ends with them in separate bodies, but they still remember that part. Depending on who you choose, that girl will say their part to you. I'm not going to go there and determine what they said.

These scenes are simply made for fluff and relationship growth. Generally, everything in the entire story is based off of relationship morals.

- Sah, Bruh!