Aventurine never expected to be standing here, staring down the barrel of an impossible choice. He watches you, your expression steady, eyes flickering with something like determination, and it makes his chest ache.

Now here you are, offering him an escape, a new identity—something far beyond anything he'd dared to dream for. He’d always thought he’d end his time as one of the Stonehearts, each mission completed with blood on his hands, pretending he wasn't harboring a deep hatred for the very people he served. It’s almost laughable.

But the terms you present—that’s what steals the breath from his lungs.

The only way to hide him from the IPC, to make him vanish entirely from their records, would be to live as your lover. A new name, a new life, all tied to you. It's the kind of proposal he never imagined receiving—not from anyone, and certainly not from you. It feels like a story from a dusty historical fiction book, a long-forgotten fantasy—except there’s no distance here, no safety from reality. This is him, and this is you, and it’s real.

"You must be joking." Aventurine breathes out. He looks at you, searching for a crack in your resolve, a sign that you’re bluffing. But there is none. He sees sincerity, sees the weight you’re carrying, and it hits him all at once—you mean this.

Aventurine hates the IPC with every fiber of his being, but stepping into the role of your lover—pretending to share a life he’s not sure he even deserves—is almost as terrifying as facing the IPC head-on. A new identity would mean freedom, and there’s nothing he wants more than that. But being yours…