That's something.
I spendthe following nights in the war room, refining the donor protection protocols. Making notes in the margins. Improving the system she identified as flawed.
If I can't show her who I am with words, I'll show her with work.
I'm deep in the northeastern sector analysis when I feel her.
That pull. That awareness. Like gravity redirecting itself.
I turn and open the door.
She's standing in the doorway, one hand raised like she was about to knock. Her dark hair is loose, falling past her shouldersin waves that catch the low light. Her eyes are uncertain but determined. She's wearing the gray sweater again, soft and fitted, and my fingers ache to know if it feels as warm as it looks.
"Celeste." My voice comes out rough. "Is something wrong?"
"No. I just..." She steps into the room. The distance between us shrinks. "I wanted to look at the donor protection updates. Elena mentioned there were adjustments."
A lie. We both know it.
I don't call her on it.
"Of course." I gesture toward the table, trying not to notice the way my hand wants to reach for her instead. "The files are there. The northeastern sector still has some gaps."
She moves closer. Stops at the edge of the table and looks down at the files. I don't think she's seeing them.
"You've been thorough," she says quietly.
"It's important. You were right to flag it."
She looks up. Our eyes meet across the scattered papers.
The shadows under her eyes match mine. She hasn't been resting well either. Some selfish part of me is glad. The rest of me wants to fix it, to make everything easier for her, even if that means staying away.
"Why didn't you come to training?" she asks.
The question lands like a blow. She noticed. She cared.
"I wasn't sure if you wanted me there."
"I didn't say I didn't want you there. I said step back. In that moment. That room."
"I know." I struggle to find the words. "But I didn't want to assume. Didn't want to push into spaces where you might not want me."
"I needed to know you could respect my choices. That doesn't mean I needed you to disappear."
Something cracks in my chest.
"I'm sorry. I'm not good at this. At knowing where the line is."
"Neither am I."
The admission hangs between us. An offering.
I move around the table before I can stop myself. Slowly. Carefully. Giving her every chance to tell me to stop.
She doesn't.
I stop two feet away.
