“Not hiding.”
“Lurking, then.”
“That’s worse.”
I smile slightly and lean against the fence beside him, leaving just enough space between us to be polite.
Not enough to ignore.
The firelight flickers across his face, catching in the angles, softening some of the hard lines without taking them away completely.
He looks different like this. Less distant. More… real.
“Didn’t think I’d see you out here,” I say.
“Didn’t plan to be seen.”
“But here you are.”
He shifts uneasily, adjusting the cross of his arms. “Boss asked.”
Something tugs behind my ribs—disappointment.
It makes no sense.
I take a sip of whatever someone handed me earlier. Something sweet. Something strong.
“Do you ever do anything you actually want to do?” I ask.
His mouth shifts, almost like he’s considering it. “Sometimes.”
“And this isn’t one of those times?”
His eyes flick toward the fire, then back to me. “I didn’t say that.”
There it is again. That careful way he answers. Like every word gets checked before it leaves him.
“What would you be doing if you weren’t here?” I ask.
“Work.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
“It’s the only one I’ve got.”
I turn toward him fully now, studying him the way I probably shouldn’t. “You ever take a break?”
“From what?”
“Everything.”
He exhales, slowly. “That’s not how this works.”
“For who?”
“For people who don’t have the luxury of walking away.”
Something in his voice shifts when he says it. Not louder. Just… heavier.
