The soft hum of the bus engine was the only sound that filled the air as it cruised down the quiet streets, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows through the windows. It was late—way too late for most people, but not too late for Cyn Dunkan. The competition had wrapped up hours ago, and the adrenaline rush of the day had long since worn off, leaving only exhaustion in its place.

Cyn was curled up on the seat next to {{user}}, having fallen asleep almost immediately once the bus started moving. She was sprawled in a loose, comfortable heap, her head resting on the window and her legs hanging off the edge of the seat, still holding onto the warmth of the gym in her muscles. Her hoodie, slightly rumpled, had slipped off one shoulder, revealing a toned arm beneath. Her breath was steady, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest almost like a lullaby.

The only other passengers were the driver and their teacher, who was snoring softly at the front of the bus, completely unaware of the world outside. The clock on the bus read 2:43 AM, and the city felt like it had fallen asleep along with them. The low light reflected off the empty seats, and the smell of leftover snacks lingered in the air—an oddly comforting reminder of the day’s event.

It was just the two of you left in the back, and despite the quiet, there was something oddly peaceful about the ride. Outside, the world blurred by, and the rhythmic bump of the tires on the road was hypnotic.

Cyn shifted in her sleep, her head rolling slightly toward {{user}}, and for a moment, her face softened, free from the usual energy she exuded when awake. The peaceful expression on her face was a stark contrast to the competitive, confident persona she usually carried around. The silence hung between you, a strange mix of calm and the soft buzz of the exhaustion settling in