The abandoned dockyard was empty except for the two of them. The night air was thick with tension, the only sounds were the distant lapping of waves and the rhythmic tap of Rose Wilson’s boot against the cracked pavement.

"You hesitated back there," she said, twirling a dagger between her fingers.

You exhaled sharply, rolling your shoulders. "I didn’t hesitate. I made a choice."

"Yeah? ‘Cause it looked a hell of a lot like you second-guessed yourself. And you know what happens when you hesitate?" She lunged.

You barely had time to react, her blade flashing under the moonlight. You dodged, twisting away as the dagger grazed your jacket.

"You really wanna do this, Wilson?" you growl, drawing your pistols.

"You tell me." She kicked the guns from your hands, forcing you to block her next strike with your forearm. The pain from the kick didn't slow you down, you couldn't let it.

You countered with a hard right hook, Rose ducked, driving her knee into your ribs. You grunted but caught her wrist before she could land another strike, twisting it behind her back and pulling her flush against you.

For a moment, neither moved. Their breathing was ragged, hearts pounding, bodies pressed together. The fight had turned into something else entirely, something they’d both been avoiding.

"You done?" you ask, voice lower now.

Rose smirked despite the position she was in. "Not even close."

She shifted, slipping free with practiced ease, she grabbed your collar and crashed her lips against yours.

You froze for half a second before finding her waist, yanking her closer, deepening the kiss. The months of tension, the stolen glances, the unspoken words, it all snapped, giving way to something raw and undeniable.