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I hold position a second longer.
Make sure.
Makesure.
Then I turn—
And I’m back at her side in two strides.
“Let me see,” I say, already dropping to one knee.
“I told you, I’m fine,” she says, but there’s strain in it now.
I don’t listen.
Carefully, I shift her slightly, checking the wound.
Grazed.
Not deep.
But close enough to matter.
Too close.
Relief hits harder than anything else has today.
“You’re lucky,” I mutter.
Her eyes meet mine.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I am.”
Something passes between us again.
Stronger now.
Deeper.
Because this time—
It almost didn’t happen.
“You don’t get to do that again,” I say.
Her brow lifts slightly.
“Get shot?”
“Get hurt.”
A beat.
Then—
She reaches for me.
Not dramatic.
