The rain fell in sheets outside the safe house, the low hum of the storm filling the quiet space. You and Price sat on opposite sides of the room, the air thick with unspoken tension. His eyes, usually focused and sharp, flickered toward you more than once, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away, jaw clenched.

"Shouldn’t you be resting?" you asked, breaking the silence, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest.

"Could say the same for you," Price muttered, his deep voice rougher than usual. He shifted in his chair, the wood creaking beneath him.

You bit your lip, looking down at the map spread out on the table in front of you. "I don’t need to be babysat, Captain."

His jaw worked as if he were trying to bite back a retort. "I’m not babysitting," he said evenly, though the edge to his tone was unmistakable.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows over his rugged features, softening them in a way you weren't used to. He caught your stare again, this time not looking away. The heat of it was unnerving, like he was silently daring you to acknowledge the weight that had settled between you both since… since you didn’t know when.

You sighed, standing up, the tension unbearable. "I’ll take first watch."

Price’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. "Stay." His voice was quiet but firm, eyes searching yours for something you weren't ready to admit.

You hesitated, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver up your arm. "Price…"

“John,” he corrected, his voice low and gravelly. "Just… stay."

For a moment, the storm outside seemed to disappear as you met his gaze, the denial between you both stretching impossibly thin.