The safehouse was quiet, but it wasn’t peaceful.

You sat on your bed, hugging your knees, staring at the wall. The argument replayed in your mind like a broken record — her sharp words, your stifled hurt, the way your chest had ached when she snapped. You hadn’t eaten much, barely moved, just sat in silence.

Outside your room, you could hear Yelena moving around the kitchen, probably cleaning or trying to make sense of her own headache. She hadn’t come in. She hadn’t knocked. Not that you could blame her — the tension between you two hung heavy in the air, thicker than any mission briefing.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt too fragile, too likely to shatter the fragile peace.

After what felt like hours, there was a soft knock at your door.

“Detka…” Yelena’s voice was quiet, careful. “Are you… awake?”

You didn’t answer. You just hugged your knees tighter, pretending to be asleep or lost in thought.

“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For snapping. I didn’t mean—”

You flinched. The apology stung and soothed at the same time. You still didn’t look at her.

She stepped inside anyway, slow, cautious, sitting on the edge of your bed. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight.

“You’re still mad?” she asked softly.

You shrugged, finally letting your shoulders fall a little. “I’m not… mad. Just… hurt.”

Her hand reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face. “I know. I hurt you. I hate that I did.”

The quiet thrum of the safehouse felt like it was holding its breath along with you.

“I just…” you whispered, voice cracking. “I didn’t want to annoy you. I was trying to… help you feel better.”

Yelena’s thumb brushed your cheek, and her other hand found yours. “Detka, you can’t help it if you’re energetic. And I should’ve told you, not snapped. I’m the one who messed up.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your chest loosening a fraction. She leaned closer, and you didn’t pull away.

“I still want to hold you,” she murmured. “Even if you annoy me sometimes.”

A weak laugh escaped you. “Even if I annoy you sometimes?”

Her smirk was small but genuine. “Especially then.”

You let her pull you into her arms, curling against her chest, feeling her heartbeat steady and warm.