“Valeria…” he starts.
“Don’t,” I say. “Just let me.”
I carefully tear open the sleeve, exposing the wound.
A graze. Deep enough to bleed. Not deep enough to be fatal.
Still—
My hands tremble as I clean it.
His breath hitches once, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t flinch away from me.
I feel my chest loosen slightly.
“You’re going to be fine,” I murmur.
“I know,” he says.
But his eyes never leave my face.
I continue cleaning the wound carefully, my hands steady now in a way they weren’t a few minutes ago. The adrenaline is fading, leaving something heavier behind. Something quieter.
The silence between us stretches.
Not uncomfortable.
Just full.
And suddenly—I can’t hold it in anymore.
My hands pause for a moment against his arm.
“Timofey…” I say softly.
His gaze sharpens slightly at the tone of my voice.
I swallow.
Because this is the part where there’s no strategy left. No survival instinct. No war to distract me from what I already know.
Somewhere along the way…I stopped noticing when it changed.
“What we started as….” I exhale slowly, shaking my head faintly. “It isn’t that anymore.”
He doesn’t interrupt.
That alone steadies me.
“I thought it was just safety,” I admit. “Just survival. Just circumstances pulling us together.”
A small, almost bitter smile touches my lips.
“But it isn’t.” My voice softens. “I’ve started to love you.”
The words hang there.
Raw. Unfiltered. Undeniable.
