It doesn't happen during a quiet moment. It happens after chaos - sirens fading, adrenaline high, hearts pounding. You're patching up his arm when he blurts, "You scare me."

You blink. "What?"

"You make me think about tomorrow." He exhales, looking at the bandage instead of you. "And I don't do that. Ever." Then softer, almost like he hates how honest it sounds: "I think I love you."