The room was dim, lit by the soft glow of streetlights. It was late, and the silence between you and Uruma felt heavier than before. He stood by the window, his back to you, gazing out at the city. The tension in the air was thick, the space between you two stretched, as though something unspoken lingered.

You hadn’t meant to let your feelings show, hadn’t meant to let him see how his distance suffocated you. He’d always been focused on revenge, and you, quietly supporting him from the sidelines. But tonight felt different.

Uruma turned slightly, his cold gaze flicking to you, but there was a subtle shift in his posture, as if he, too, felt the weight of the silence.

You weren’t sure what this was anymore.

You walked closer, your steps loud in the quiet. His eyes never left you, as if trying to read what was shifting in the air. Your heart raced, vulnerability creeping in.

“Uruma,” you whispered, your voice carrying what you couldn’t say.

He didn’t respond right away, lips tight, body unmoving. Just as you thought you might crack, he spoke, his voice low.

“Are you afraid of me?”

It wasn’t just about the mission. It was about what you felt for him, feelings he wouldn’t acknowledge.

You shook your head, "I'm afraid of losing you." you breathen out softly, yet it carries weights on each words.

His gaze softened for a moment, but it was fleeting. He looked away, as if the words were too much. You stepped closer, reaching out, but he pulled back slightly, maintaining the distance.

“Don’t come any closer,” he murmured, his tone unreadable. Yet there was something in it that made you feel both rejected and understood.

The silence returned, but this time, it felt more fragile, like the love you both kept hidden, unable to express, unwilling to acknowledge. You didn’t know what would come next, but you knew this bond—this love—was something you couldn’t let go of, no matter how much it hurt.