Her eyes snap open. "You're scared?"
"Of course I am." I rest my forehead against hers. "Not of the raid. Not of the danger. I'm scared of losing this. Losing you. Right when I finally have you."
"Then don't go."
"You know I can't do that."
"I know." Her voice is barely a whisper. "I just—I needed to say it."
"I understand."
She reaches up, fists her hands in my shirt, pulls me closer.
"If something happens to you?—"
"It won't."
"You don't know that."
"No. I don't. But I know that I've trained for this. I know that I'll have my brothers with me. And I know that I have every reason in the world to make it home." I kiss her forehead. "You're my reason, Ingrid. You've always been my reason."
She makes a sound—half sob, half laugh—and then she's kissing me.
Desperate and fierce and full of everything she can't say.
I kiss her back just as hard.
Pouring every promise, every hope, every unspoken word into it.
We stumble backward until her legs hit the bed.
She pulls me down with her, and we fall together, a tangle of limbs and heat and need.
"Gunnar—"
"I've got you." I hover over her, brushing hair from her face. "I've always got you."
"I know." She pulls me down for another kiss. "I know."
We stay like that—tangled together, kissing, touching, holding on.
Not sex.
Not tonight.
Just closeness.
Just connection.
Just two people trying to memorize each other before the world pulls them apart.
I don't know how long we lie there.
Long enough for the light outside to fade.
Long enough for my heart to feel full in a way it never has before.
Long enough to start believing that maybe, somehow, everything will be okay.
