“What?” I ask.
“Domestic Knight is my new favorite Knight,” she says. “Look at you. Cabin. Pancakes. Apocalypse this, apocalypse that.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“Affectionately.”
I roll my eyes and stir the batter. It’s lumpy, but not catastrophic. The cabin’s frying pan is hanging on a hook above the stove. I grab it, add a little oil from the cabinet, and set it on the burner.
“You know,” Lark muses, “if people could see you right now, the bounty would probably double.”
I arch a brow. “Why?”
“Because no one expects vigilante hacker boy to also be borderline competent at breakfast.”
“Borderline competent is generous.”
She smiles. “I’m a generous girl.”
The words hang between us, and for a second, last night crashes back in.
Her hands on my shoulders.
Her mouth under mine.
The way she pulled back and gave me an out.
That matters more than I want to admit.
I clear my throat, focus on pouring batter circles into the pan. “How are you feeling?” I ask, keeping my gaze on the stove. “After last night. The warehouse. The bounty. Not… the other stuff.”
“The other stuff being you finally kissing me?” she says lightly.
My grip tightens on the spatula.
She must read something in my shoulders because her tone softens. “I’m okay,” she says. “Really. Scared in a… aware way, not a paralyzed way. If that makes sense.”
“It does,” I say quietly.
“And about the other stuff…” She trails off. I can feel her eyes on my back. “I told you, Knight. I’m not regretting it. I’m not pretending it didn’t happen. But I also get that this is probably the worst possible timing and you’re trying to keep us both alive.”
I flip the pancakes. They actually look… decent.
“You could say that,” I admit.
“So.” She lets out a breath. “Call it… a bookmark. We put a little note in the page that says, ‘Come back to this once we’re not being hunted by faceless criminals.’”
Despite everything, a faint smile pulls at my mouth. “You and your metaphors.”
“I contain multitudes.”
“I noticed.”
Silence falls for a beat.
It’s not awkward.
Just… charged.
