The words wrapped around me like a promise rather than a chain.
I let them sink in without immediately searching for the lie beneath them.
We walked side by side down the quiet hospital corridor, our fingers laced together — not just held, but intertwined with quiet intention.
There was something protective in the way he gripped my hand.
Something grounding.
Something that felt dangerously close to the word ‘lovers.’
We moved in perfect step.
His long stride shortened naturally to match mine, careful not to pull me forward or leave me behind.
Every few steps, his gaze dropped to me — not possessive, just checking.
Making sure I was still there.
Still upright.
Still breathing beside him.
The overhead fluorescent lights cast long, pale reflections on the polished floor, stretching our joined shadows ahead of us like a single path.
We reached the elevator bank.
Vincenzo pressed the call button, his thumb lingering there a second longer than necessary before he turned to face me fully.
“You’re still pale,” he murmured, his voice softer now.
He lifted his free hand and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, his touch careful—almost hesitant—as though he was still learning where he was allowed to touch me.
“I’ll be fine.”
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
Empty.
He guided me inside, his arm sliding around my waist again—firm but gentle—as if the walls themselves might reach out and take me away from him.
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft hiss, enclosing us in a small, quiet world.
We descended in silence, the only sound the low mechanical hum of the cables.
The fragile intimacy we had shared upstairs seemed to thicken in the confined space — heavier, more real.
When the doors opened again, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Cool, damp garage air greeted us, carrying the faint metallic scent of exhaust and old oil.
Dim overhead lights buzzed overhead, casting uneven pools of sickly yellow across the concrete floor and creating deep pockets of shadow between the parked vehicles.
Vincenzo stepped out first, his body instinctively tensing.
Not with fear — with sharp, predatory awareness.
His free hand hovered near his side out of habit, even though he carried no weapon and was still heavily bandaged.
