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"You understood it."

"I did."

"Then it was efficient."

His forehead touches mine. I close my eyes. This is the part where I could make another joke. But I don't.

"I love you."

His body goes still.

I've said it before. During an argument. After nearly dying. With adrenaline still tearing through both of us.

This is different.

There is no gunfire tonight. No blood. No fear forcing honesty out of me before courage disappears. I open my eyes.

"I love you, Adrianos."

His hand tightens against my waist. I see the struggle in his face. Not because he doesn't feel it. Because he does.

"Say something," I whisper.

His gaze holds mine. "Do you know what those words mean to someone like me?"

"Considering you've spent the last several weeks behaving like an armed psychological disorder, I have some idea."

A breath almost becomes a laugh. Then his expression turns serious again.

"They mean there's something else I can't control."

"Yes."

"Something else I can lose."

"Yes."

His jaw tightens, and I touch his face.

"You could lose me, Adrianos."

Pain flashes through his eyes, but I don't soften the truth.

"I could lose you. We could survive OB6 and die forty years from now. Or we could argue tomorrow and discover you're completely intolerable."

"I am not intolerable."

"Debatable."

His hand covers mine against his face.

"But loving someone isn't a contract against loss," I tell him. "You don't get guarantees."

For a man who built his life around controlling outcomes, I might as well be asking him to walk blindfolded toward a cliff. Maybe that's what love is for him. Not surrender. Uncertainty. He looks at me for a long time. Then he chooses.

"I love you."

The words are quiet. No hesitation once they're spoken. My throat tightens. Adrianos touches his forehead to mine again.