Something flickered across his face. Recognition.
“He said that to me too. The first time we met.” He didn’t step back. Didn’t give me space. “I was impatient. Wanted to rush the mission. He told me to slow down. Said I’d miss the important things if I was always looking ahead.”
The recognition settled into my chest, warm and unexpected. This shared piece of Torek, this echo of the man who’d raised me living in someone else’s memory.
“Did you listen?” I asked.
“Eventually.”
“How long did it take?”
“Longer than it should have.”
I leaned back against the window frame. The glass was cold through my shirt, but he was warm in front of me, and the contrast made my skin prickle.
“You’re lonely,” I said.
He went still.
Not startled. Not surprised. Just... still. The kind of stillness I’d seen in prey animals when they sensed a predator. The kind of stillness that meant every muscle had locked into place, waiting for what came next.
“You hide it well,” I continued. “The way you fade into the background with your team. The way you talk about them like they’re a unit and you’re something separate. Adjacent.” I watched his face, looking for the cracks. “But I recognize it.”
“Recognize what?”
“The shape of it. The way it sits in your chest.” I pressed my hand flat against my own sternum, feeling my heart beatunder my palm. “Like there’s a space where something should fit, and nothing ever does. Like you’re always on the outside of something, looking in.”
His jaw tightened. I saw the muscle flex under his skin.
“I’ve been that lonely,” I said. “Before Torek found me.”
Something shifted in his eyes. The walls didn’t come down, but I saw a crack. A hairline fracture in the stone he’d built around himself.
“I spent years on my own before I came here,” I said. “Moving from place to place. Never staying. Never letting anyone close enough to love.” I dropped my hand from my chest. “I thought if I didn’t need anyone, I couldn’t be hurt by anyone. And I was right. I couldn’t be hurt.”
I paused.
“I couldn’t be anything else, either.”
He was still. So still. But I noticed his chest moving with each breath, slower and deeper than it had been a moment ago. I saw the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides, fingers pressing into his palms.
“What changed?” His voice was rough. Scraped raw.
“Torek. He didn’t ask me to trust him. He just... kept showing up. Every time I pushed him away, he came back. Every time I told him I didn’t need help, he helped anyway.” I smiled, small and sad. “He wore me down. Made me realize that being alone wasn’t the same as being strong. That needing people wasn’t the same as being weak.”
The quiet held. I could hear my own heartbeat now, loud in my ears. Could feel it in my throat, my wrists, everywhere blood ran close to the surface.
“What would it take,” I asked, “to get you to take off the armor?”
He didn’t answer.
He stepped forward instead.
One step. Closing half the distance between us.
My breath caught. I held it, waiting.
He took another step.
