The sound of boots hitting concrete was getting louder.
The alley's damp air clung to Elijah's skin, cold but not enough to mask the heat of adrenaline racing through his body.
"Left!" Luca barked, grabbing his wrist and yanking him sharply. They dashed into a narrow side alley—only for Elijah to skid to a halt.
A brick wall.
They were trapped.
Elijah shot him a glare, chest rising and falling fast. "Really? This was the plan?"
"Not the plan," Luca said, scanning the walls. "The only option."
Before Elijah could answer, three figures appeared at the mouth of the alley—two holding knives, one with a gun.
The gunman grinned. "Looks like the pretty boys just ran out of road."
---
Luca Moved First.
He was a blur—his hand shot forward, twisting the gunman's wrist with a crack that made Elijah's stomach churn. The gun clattered to the ground. Luca slammed the man into the wall, but the second attacker was already rushing him with a blade.
Elijah didn't think—he moved.
He dove for the fallen gun, kicked it out of reach, and yanked a rusted pipe from the side of the dumpster.
The knife flashed toward him, slicing his coat. Elijah swung hard, the pipe connecting with the attacker's ribs. The man stumbled back, gasping.
---
Luca dropped his opponent and caught Elijah's eyes for a split second—a silent exchange neither had time to unpack.
The third man lunged, knife raised high. Elijah sidestepped and drove the pipe upward, catching the man's jaw. He crumpled, groaning.
---
They stood, chests heaving, surrounded by the groans of the fallen men. The sharp smell of rust and blood mixed in the air.
Luca stepped toward him, eyes blazing. "You could have been killed."
"You're welcome," Elijah snapped, gripping the pipe so tightly his knuckles ached.
"That wasn't a thank-you," Luca said, voice rough. "You don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly," Elijah cut in. "I'm not some porcelain doll you can lock away. If you go down, I'm going down with you."
---
Luca's jaw tightened. His hands shot out, gripping Elijah's face as if he needed to make him listen. "Do you have any idea what that would do to me?"
Elijah blinked, caught off guard by the raw edge in his voice.
"You're reckless," Luca continued, his breath uneven, "and stubborn, and you drive me insane—but if I lost you again…"
Again.
The word hung heavy in the air.
"Then don't," Elijah said softly.
---
For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other.
Then Luca moved—closing the distance, pressing his lips to Elijah's in a kiss that was messy, desperate, and full of every word neither had dared to speak.
When they broke apart, Elijah's voice was barely a whisper. "Now you can't leave me."
Luca's forehead rested against his. "I was never going to."
---
A New Voice Cut Through the Night.
"Well… isn't this touching?"
They turned.
A tall man stood at the alley's entrance, his suit far too clean for these streets. His eyes were sharp, his smile sharper.
"Luca," the man said smoothly, "you finally brought me what I wanted."
His gaze shifted to Elijah, and the smile widened.
"And something I didn't know I wanted… until now."
---