The safehouse was quiet too quiet for Carlos’s liking. You sat at the table, going over the evac plan, while he cleaned his rifle nearby, stealing glances when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“I can feel you staring,” you said without looking up.

Carlos smirked. “Just making sure you’re still breathing.”

You shot him a look. “Worried about me, Oliveira?”

He shrugged, stepping closer. “Maybe. Or maybe I just think about you a little too much between fights.”