We reached our house, exhaustion, and adrenaline still coursing through our veins. The night had been a storm, and now, here we were—two battered souls sitting on the floor, a bottle of beer in hand, silence stretching between us, thick with unspoken truths.
She traced the rim of her bottle absentmindedly, her fingers trembling slightly as if holding back something heavy. Then, without looking at me, she spoke, her voice raw and stripped of its usual fire.
"You know... I'm an orphan."
The words settled between us, heavier than I expected. Her blue eyes, usually so bright, now held shadows. "A home... It's something I've never really had, never known. My whole life, I've been alone. No one to care, no one to hold me when things got bad, no one to tell me it's okay to just... let it be. I was always chasing perfection, terrified of ever letting anyone down. To be useful." She let out a small, humourless laugh, shaking her head. "I thought that was my life. Lonely, cold, without love. But then you came along, and suddenly... my perception is changing. I feel something I shouldn't. I feel at home. And it terrifies me."
Then she said, "Do you know the real story behind my driving?"
I did nothing but watch her intently, taking in every detail. She exhaled slowly, my gaze lost in the distance, as memories clawed to the surface—memories she had buried deep, hoping they'd never resurface.
"Then she begins-
The first time I got behind the wheel..., I wasn't just driving—I was running.
Running from my anxieties. From the demons. From the weight of a world that never showed a child any mercy."
"Every time my foot met the accelerator, power surged beneath me, and I felt the chaos inside me quiet down as if speed could outpace the storm raging within me. The faster I went, the more the noise faded, and for those fleeting moments, I was free. I never feared crashing. I never cared about dying. Because back then, I had nothing to lose. No one to leave behind. No one to grieve for me. I threw myself into racing like a desperate soul grasping for purpose. And I won. Victory after victory, I felt lighter, weightless, untouchable—until I realized it wasn't the winning that made me feel alive. It was the escape. The world had shown me its ugliest side, stripped away any innocence I might have had. I saw cruelty in every corner, deception in every smile. People wear masks, each hiding their true selves beneath layers of lies. And I refused to be like them.
So, I became many versions of myself—the one they expected, the one they feared, and the one they craved."
"Because in a world built on illusions, the only way to survive is to become an illusion yourself."
A soft smile graces her lips, but her voice carries a weight I can't ignore. I see it—the sorrow she hides behind that fragile curve of her mouth, the silent battle waged behind her eyes. It twists something deep inside me, an ache I can't shake. All I want is to pull her close, to take that pain and make it mine, to replace every shadow with light. I want to give her every happiness this world has to offer; to be the reason she no longer has to carry the weight alone. If I could, I would rewrite her story—one where she never has to hurt again, where she knows, without a doubt, that she is loved.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away before it could fall. "One day, all of this will end. We'll be given new identities, separate lives, and different futures. And when that happens... It's going to hurt."
Her words were like a knife twisting in my chest. I set my beer down, shifting closer until our knees brushed. My voice was lower, steadier than I felt. "I know that feeling all too well."
She looked at me, and I saw myself in her eyes—lost, searching, desperate for something we both thought we weren't allowed to have.
"I'm an orphan, too. My whole life has been nothing but orders, missions, and survival. I was never taught how to feel, and how to want something that wasn't just the next objective. My heart... It's always felt like stone—cold, unbreakable, empty."
I exhaled sharply, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her cheek. "But then I met you, and suddenly, I feel alive. I know what I like, what makes me laugh, what makes me ache. You're my home."
The silence between us shifted. The air crackled with energy, electric and intoxicating. Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching as my fingers traced the curve of her jaw, down to her neck where her pulse thrummed wildly beneath my touch. And then, as if pulled by gravity, I leaned in.
The moment our lips met, it was fire and desperation, both gentle and ruthless, all at once. She tasted like the night—like danger, like something forbidden, something I would never be able to let go of. My hands found her waist, pulling her closer, moulding her against me. She melted into me, her body yielding, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss. It wasn't just passion— a war, a claiming, a silent promise neither of us dared to speak aloud.
I tilted my head, deepening the kiss, savouring her like a whispered secret meant only for me. She melted against me, her breath hitching as our lips moved in perfect rhythm, slow and unhurried, like we had all the time in the world. A soft sigh escaped her, warm and delicate, sending a shiver down my spine. I responded with a quiet groan, my hands gliding over her back, tracing every dip and curve with reverence. She felt like a treasure beneath my fingertips, something to memorize, to hold onto as if she were the only warmth in a cold world.
The space between us disappeared, replaced by nothing but heat and quiet longing as if the universe had stilled just for this moment, just for us. Her nails dug into my skin, pulling me impossibly closer. I could feel her heartbeat against mine, erratic and wild, mirroring the storm raging inside me. Time didn't exist here—only us, lost in the heat, the intensity, the unspoken truth that neither of us dared to acknowledge. That this... whatever it was, was real.
When we finally pulled apart, our breaths were ragged, foreheads pressed together as if grounding ourselves back to reality. I traced her lower lip with my thumb, my voice hoarse. "You are the one thing in this world I don't ever want to lose."
Her eyes searched mine, looking for an answer I couldn't give—because the truth was, I didn't know how this would end. But right now, at this moment, we were here, together, and that was enough.
For now.
We talked for hours, yet the heaviness in the air remained—thick, suffocating, inescapable. For the first time in my life, I was afraid. Afraid of losing her. Haunted by the thought of a future without her by my side.
She lay in my lap, her breath soft and steady, lost in the depths of sleep. The weight of exhaustion and unspoken pain clung to her, woven into every delicate feature of her face. Even in slumber, she looked vulnerable—too fragile for a world as cruel as ours.
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, tracing a silent path down her cheek. Without thinking, I brushed it away, my fingers lingering against her skin. Not again. I swore to myself, not as long as I breathe. No more tears. No more pain. Even if I have to burn the world down, I will protect her.
My fingers tangled in her silky hair, threading through the dark strands as I memorized every inch of her. She was an enigma—a storm wrapped in the gentleness of a summer breeze. Every side of her, every layer, only made me fall deeper. Harder. Dangerously so.
But fate was cruel, and I knew it. In our world, love was forbidden. Attachments were weaknesses, and weaknesses got people killed. We are not allowed to feel. That was the rule, the law. But how could I silence the chaos in my heart? How could I deny how she had become the air in my lungs, the only warmth in my cold, hollow existence? She shifted slightly in my lap, sighing in her sleep, unaware of the war raging inside me. And at that moment, I knew—I was already too far gone.
The morning light slipped quietly through the curtains, spilling across the room like a golden secret. For a moment, I wasn't sure if I was awake or still caught in the remnants of a dream. My senses felt hazy until I realized what was real.
She was sleeping in my arms.
Curled against me, her arms wrapped around my torso, legs tangled with mine, her cheek resting on my chest as if she belonged there.
And maybe… just maybe, she did.
She looked... divine. Peaceful. Too beautiful to be real. I didn't want the moment to end.
The chaos we lived in, the blood we spilled, the lies we told—it all disappeared in this fragile moment. I gently reached out and moved a strand of hair from her face. My fingers grazed her temple, careful not to wake her, but the desire in me surged too strongly. Then, unable to resist, I leaned down and pressed a slow, soft kiss to her lips.
But the spell broke.
She stirred.
Her lashes fluttered open, her eyes still half-lost in sleep. But as soon as she registered my face hovering above hers, her eyes widened in shock.
With one sharp movement, she jerked back too quickly, lost her balance, and nearly tumbled off the sofa. Instinct took over—I caught her wrist and pulled her back toward me in one swift motion. She crashed into my chest, her breath catching. My arms locked around her again as I smirked and said in a teasing whisper,
"Where are you going, baby?"
She blinked, still a little flustered. "N-Nowhere," she stammered. "I just… panicked seeing you so close like that."
I cupped her face gently, letting my thumb trace the delicate line of her cheekbone. Her skin was warm, her gaze still dazed.
"Why, baby... are you afraid of me?" I asked, my voice dropping low, dangerous, and intimate.
Her expression shifted.
A slow smile curved her lips as she climbed into my lap, straddling me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and she tilted her head, eyes narrowing with mischief.
"Do you think I'm afraid of you?" she whispered, lips just inches from mine.
My hands glided up her back and slipped beneath her T-shirt, tracing the curve of her waist, savoring the heat of her skin. I drew her closer, letting our bodies press together, melting into each other.
"No," I murmured. "I don't think the girl who can take down a room full of men without flinching is afraid of anything."
She chuckled softly, leaning in until her lips hovered just over mine, close enough to feel the heat of her breath.
"You're damn right," she whispered, brushing her lips against mine without fully kissing me—Driving me fucking wild.
But just as I reached for her again, she suddenly looked past me and her eyes widened in alarm.
"Oh my God—look at the time!" she gasped.
She cupped my cheeks and gave them a quick squeeze, laughing breathlessly.
"We're ridiculously late! The team must be waiting—we have to get to headquarters."
I groaned and let my head fall back dramatically. They can wait five more minutes. Or ten. Or... twenty." She smirked, already climbing off me.
"Keep tempting me like that and we'll miss the whole mission."
I smirked, my eyes following her until she disappeared into the bedroom. God, she was chaos. Fire and frost. The kind of woman who could stab you one moment… then kiss the wound the next. And I was already addicted.