The Liberty bobbed gently on the Seine, its old wooden hull groaning softly as the current shifted beneath it. It was late afternoon, the kind of hour where the sky turned tangerine and the water looked like it was catching fire. For most people, it was the prettiest time of day in Paris.

For Y/n, it just felt like another evening.

They were sitting on the deck, legs dangling over the edge, watching the water ripple below. The city hummed in the distance—traffic, laughter, the faint echo of a violin from somewhere along the bank. None of it reached the quiet bubble that surrounded the houseboat.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden planks broke through first.

His voice was easy, unhurried. Like he'd already known exactly where they'd be. Luka settled down beside them, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, but not quite. He pulled one knee up and rested his arm on it, gaze drifting to the water.

He didn't look at them when he said it. Just kept watching the river, like the words were part of the current, something natural and true.