That does it.
I laugh—really laugh—and it comes out cracked and uneven, the sound of someone whose nerves are still frayed around the edges. I press my forehead briefly into his shoulder, trying to get control of myself.
“You’re insane,” I say.
“Objectively,” he agrees. “Yes.”
I pull back enough to look at him again. “I believe you.”
And I do. Stars help me, I do. There’s not a single part of him that feels like a lie. He’s reckless and loud and terrifyingly capable, but when he says things like that, there’s no doubt in his voice. No hesitation.
But belief doesn’t cancel fear.
I can feel it flicker anyway—right there in my chest, tight and cold, like a warning light I can’t shut off. My smile falters, just a fraction. I don’t even realize I’m doing it.
Voltar does.
His gaze sharpens—not in a threatening way. In aseeingway.
“That wasn’t all of it,” he says.
I swallow. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He exhales through his nose, slow and controlled. “You believe me,” he says. “But you’re scared.”
I don’t answer.
Because yeah. I am.
Not of him. Never of him.
Of this.
Of the fact that this stopped being about survival somewhere along the way. That it crossed a line I didn’t see until it was already behind me. This isn’t adrenaline sex or trauma bonding or two people clinging to warmth in the dark.
This is real.
Real means stakes.
Real means loss is possible.
I shift, drawing my knees up slightly, curling inward without meaning to. The floor feels colder all of a sudden.
“I don’t do well with ‘real,’” I admit quietly. “Real has a habit of leaving.”
Voltar doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t joke. He doesn’t dismiss it.
He just listens.
When he moves, it’s slow. Careful. He leans forward until his forehead rests against mine, the ridges of his brow cool where they touch my skin. His breath mingles with mine, warm and steady, anchoring.
“We survive this,” he says. “We build something better.”
I close my eyes.
It would be so easy to say nothing. To dodge it. To let the moment pass without pinning it down with words.
He doesn’t let me.
