The evening air wrapped around me like silk, but there was no comfort in it, only the lingering heaviness of the day. Kairo hadn't spoken much after what happened earlier. He had that quiet storm inside him again, the one that both terrified me and drew me closer. Every time I glanced at him, sitting just a little too far away, his profile carved sharp against the fading light, my heart ached.
I told myself to stop watching him, to stop craving something I could never completely own, but my body didn't listen. My eyes trailed the slope of his jaw, the way his hand tightened and loosened on the arm of the chair as though he was fighting something inside.
Finally, I broke the silence. "You're distant again," I whispered.
His gaze slid to me, slow and heavy, as if he already knew the question before I spoke. "You say that like it's new."
The sting of his words hit, but I didn't back down. "Maybe I'm saying it because I miss you. Because I don't know what you're thinking when you shut me out like this."
For a heartbeat, his expression softened, but then it vanished like mist. He leaned back, shadows pooling in his eyes. "If I told you what I was thinking, Lyra, you'd run from me."
A chill ran down my spine. "Try me."
His laugh was low, humorless. He stood and walked toward me, stopping so close I could feel his warmth, the faint brush of his breath against my skin. His hand hovered near my face, not quite touching. "I think about you in ways I shouldn't. About keeping you so close no one could ever touch you. About what it would mean if you were mine completely. I think about how dangerous that obsession could get… and how much it would destroy us both."
My lips parted, but no words came out. My pulse raced, half fear, half desire. "And what if I don't care about being destroyed?"
His hand finally touched me, the pad of his thumb brushing my lower lip. For a moment, the world stopped. Then he drew back suddenly, his jaw tight, his eyes shuttered again.
"You don't know what you're saying," he said, voice rough. He turned away before I could answer, before I could even breathe properly again.
The weight of his absence hit harder than his touch. My chest ached with something unnamed, something raw and desperate.
I stood, reaching out, but stopped short of him. "Kairo, I'm not afraid of you."
He froze, his back still to me. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Finally, he whispered, "Then maybe you should be."
And in the dim light of that night, I saw the flash of something at his side, tucked beneath his coat. Cold metal gleamed for only a second before it disappeared again.
My breath caught in my throat.
Was it a weapon? And why did he have it with him now, here, when everything between us was already trembling on the edge of breaking?