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I’m not completely sure.
Mila
I hear it.
The shift.
The uncertainty.
And that scares me more than anything else today.
“Sit,” I say again.
Softer this time.
This time—
He listens.
I help him down behind a fallen tree.
Kneel in front of him.
Hands already moving—checking the wound, reinforcing pressure, working fast.
He watches me.
Not saying anything.
Not deflecting.
Not pushing.
“That was reckless,” I mutter.
“That was effective.”
“That was stupid.”
“That was necessary.”
I shake my head.
“…you’re impossible.”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
Then—
“…you still stayed.”
My hands pause.
Just for a second.
“That wasn’t a question,” I say quietly.
