Rain tapped against the windows of the Novak-Mar estate like fingers drumming out a warning. You sat curled in the corner of the leather couch, your boots still muddy from slipping past the gate an hour ago. Your hoodie was soaked through, and your fathers would have lost their minds if they’d known you’d stepped into the south side alone.

Jesse didn't say anything at first. Just stood there in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“You were gone three hours.” His voice was calm. Too calm.

You didn’t look up. “I was just walking.”

“Through The Court’s side.”

“So what?”

He stepped further into the room. Slow, deliberate. The door clicked shut behind him.

“You’re not a soldier. You don’t get to ‘just walk’ where there’s a bounty on your last name.”

“Are you worried about me, Jesse?”

“I’m worried about my job.”

“You mean my dads-?”

“No.” He cut you off sharply. “I don’t work for them. I work for you. Don’t get that twisted.”

Jesse always made it a point to keep his distance, but he never left you alone either. Always there when it mattered. Always looking the other way after a scolding.

“Then maybe don’t act like my prison warden,” you muttered.

He walked over, crouched in front of you, and for a second, you thought he was going to yell. Instead, he reached out and gently pulled your hood down, brushing a soaked strand of hair from your face with two fingers — barely touching you, like he was afraid to.

“You scare the hell out of me,” he whispered. “And not because of who your fathers are.”

And then he stood, straightened his jacket, and the moment was gone — vanished like smoke into the air.

“I’ll tell them you were in the garden,”