"Kira," he said, his voice surprised but cautious, like he'd been expecting someone else. Like he'd stopped expecting me at all.
That hurt more than I'd anticipated.
"Hey." I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment, taking him in. He looked better than the last time I'd seen him. Color had returned to his skin, and the lines of pain around his eyes had softened. But there was something else there, too.
Something guarded. Uncertain.
"Is everything alright?" he asked. Already shifting into tactical mode, already preparing to solve whatever problem had brought me here. "The ship—"
"The ship is fine." I pushed off the door and walked toward the bed. "Everyone is fine. Nothing is on fire, no one is attacking us, and Voss hasn't sent any frigates after us in at least three days." I stopped at the edge of his bed. "I'm not here because something's wrong."
He watched me with those four dark eyes, waiting. Patient. Kaedren had always been patient.
"Then why are you here?"
The question wasn’t accusatory, Kaedren didn't do accusatory, but there was something beneath it. A vulnerability he was trying very hard to hide.
I sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that my hip pressed against his thigh through the thin medical blanket. "Because I've been avoiding you. And I'm sorry."
His expression flickered; surprise, then something that looked painfully like relief, quickly suppressed. "You haven't been—"
"I have." I reached out and took his upper right hand in both of mine. His skin was warm, his fingers rough with calluses. "I told myself I was giving you space. Letting you heal. Being respectful." I met his gaze. "But that's not what I was doing. I was scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Of this." I lifted his hand and pressed it against my chest, right over my heart. "Of how much guilt I felt when you woke up. Of how badly I wanted to crawl into that bed with you and never leave. I was scared that if I let myself be happy you survived, I'd somehow be... dismissing what it cost you. Like celebrating would mean I didn't understand how close we came to…"
I swallowed the words and looked down.
Kaedren was quiet for a long moment. I could feel his heartbeat through his palm, steady and strong.
"I thought—" He stopped. Started again. "I thought I had changed something. Between us. That what I did on the shuttle... that you saw me differently now."
"I do see you differently."
His hand tensed against my chest.
"I see you as someone who would give up anything for me," I continued. "Someone who saw a grenade coming for the people he loved and didn't hesitate. Someone who almost died because he refused to let us die first." I leaned closer. "You didn't lose my affection because of what happened, Kaedren. I almost lost it because you almost didn’t make it."
Something shifted in his expression. The guardedness cracked, and beneath it I saw the fear he'd been carrying—the same fear I'd beencarrying. The terror of being left behind. Of being loved less after the cost became real.
"Kira." His voice was rough.
"I'm not here to check on you," I said. "I'm not here as a leader of the ship or your medic or whatever professional distance I've been hiding behind. I'm here because I want you. Because watching you recover has been harder than the waiting, and I'm done pretending I don't need to touch you."
I shifted closer, bringing my free hand up to his jaw. His skin was warm under my palm, and I felt the slight catch in his breath.
"Tell me if this is too much," I whispered. "Tell me if you're not ready, or if it hurts, or if you need me to stop. But please don't tell me you don't want this. Because I need you to know that you're still wanted. Exactly as you are. Right now."
His answer was to pull me toward him.
The kiss was gentle at first. Careful, and conscious of his injuries. His upper hands cradled my face while his lower arms wrapped around my waist, drawing me closer with a restraint that made my chest ache. He was holding back. Still protecting me, even now.
I pulled back just enough to look at him. "Stop being careful."
"Kira—"
"I mean it." I climbed onto the bed properly, straddling his thighs with my knees bracketing his hips. The medical blanket bunched between us, and I pushed it aside. "I'll be careful with your injuries. But I need you to stop treating me like I'll break."
