He says it so simply. So easily.
I step back.
He doesn’t chase.
Just watches.
“I’m scared,” I say.
“Of me?”
“Of this. Offeeling anythingin the middle of all this chaos. It’s stupid.”
He steps closer.
Not too close.
“Then let’s be stupid together.”
My laugh breaks through, soft and shaky. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
“Not unless you ask.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Since when do you wait for permission?”
He smiles. “Since it mattered.”
And just like that… everything shifts.
The room, the storm, the silence—all of it recedes.
It’s just us.
I reach up.
Not much.
Just enough to brush my fingers against his jaw.
Rough and warm and steady.
His breath hitches.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay?” he repeats.
And I nod.
“Okay.”
CHAPTER 7
NAULL
The silence after my question stretches, elastic and aching. It hums with unsaid things. Her boots click against the grated floor as she paces, head low, fingers twitching like they want something to do—anything other than be part of this moment. A shudder from the storm groans through the bulkhead, the kind that rattles teeth and makes the walls flex like lungs taking a worried breath.
I lean back against the supply crate and fold my arms across my chest, watching her. Not predatory. Not patient. Just... present.
