I crave the pressure. I seek proof that he's real, that this is real, that I didn't hallucinate a life filled with motel rooms, gunfire, and stolen breaths.
"This is not the end," he says again, his voice breaking. "I will come for you. I swear."
"I know you'll try," I reply, unable to lie to him even now.
"I will succeed."
Then his mouth finds mine.
This kiss is not born of hunger.
It is not a celebration.
It is not the reckless desire of men who have just survived and need to feel alive.
It is grief.
It is the taste of something being forcibly ripped away. It is salt and panic, the terrible knowledge that this might be our last moment together.
I memorize it anyway.
His breath. The shape of his mouth. The faint tremor in his hands as they cradle my head, as if he believes he can keep me here through touch alone.
My palms glide over him—chest, ribs, waist—mapping, learning, and storing sensations. It's as if my skin can capture what memory will blur when the cold hits and the days stretch into months.
My fingers find the pulse point at his throat.
I press gently, feeling his heartbeat—fast, uneven, frantic.
"Your heart," I whisper against his lips. "It's?—"
"Don't," Ivan interrupts, his voice rough. "Don't tell me what it's doing. I can feel it breaking."
The door swings open wider.
"Time," the guard says.
Ivan doesn't let go.
His forehead remains pressed against mine, his hands still framing my face. He takes a shuddering breath that rattles his chest.
When he speaks, it's barely a sound—just for my ears, beneath the threshold of any microphone.
"I love you."
It's not a grand confession, but a simple truth forced out like breath.
"I didn't say it enough," he adds, his voice cracking. "I didn't say it right. But I love you, and I won't let him make that disappear."
My chest aches so fiercely I fear a rib might snap.
"I love you too," I reply, struggling to speak around the knot in my throat. "And I will stay alive. I will give you something to come back to."
The guard's hand closes around my arm.
Firm. Not cruel. Just inevitable.
Ivan releases me.
