“Am I?”
“Getting close.”
She kisses me this time. Deeper, surer. Her tongue traces my lip, and I open for her, let her explore. She tastes like mint and possibilities. When we break apart, we’re both panting.
“This is a terrible idea,” she whispers against my mouth.
“The worst.”
“You’re my bodyguard.”
“Protection specialist.”
“You’re injured.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“We’re being hunted by killers.”
“Minor inconvenience.”
She’s smiling now, and it transforms her face. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re overthinking.”
“I always—” She stops herself. “No. Not always. Not with you.”
Something shifts in her expression. Walls coming down.
“With you, I just—feel.”
The words hang between us, weighted with meaning.
Then she notices fresh blood seeping through the bandage. Without a word, she finds the antibiotics in my bag and brings water. I take both, watching her shift into caretaker mode.
“Sleep,” she says simply, helping me to a corner where I can watch both entrances. “I’ll watch.”
I want to argue, but exhaustion pulls at me. The adrenaline’s gone, leaving me hollow.
“Two hours,” I manage.
She shakes her head. Holds up four fingers.
“Three.”
A small smile. She nods.
Settling by the window, she becomes a sentinel silhouette against dirty glass. Alert. Capable. Mine to protect but also protecting me.
“Talia?”
She turns slightly.
“Tomorrow, we figure out how to stop Phoenix.”
She nods again. No questions, no analysis. Just trust.
I close my eyes, her taste still on my lips, and let darkness take me.
