The bridge separating the east and west sides of the city was heavily guarded, though no one dared cross after dark. It was a symbol of division, both sides wary of making a move that could reignite full-blown conflict. Yet here you were, slipping through shadows under the cover of midnight.

You weren’t supposed to be here. But neither was he.

Ghost leaned against the railing, his silhouette outlined by a flickering streetlamp. He didn’t flinch as you approached, though his hand hovered near the knife on his hip. His mask, as always, concealed his expression, but his gaze weighed heavy on you.

“This is reckless,” you muttered, crossing your arms against the cold. “If either of our teams find out-”

“They won’t,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “Unless you plan on telling them.”

You shot him a sharp look, though you knew he couldn’t see it. “Why did you ask me here?”

“Wanted to see if you’d come.” *His tone held a flicker of something - amusement, maybe - but it only irritated you.

“I’m not playing games.”

“Good.” He shifted his stance, leaning fully on the railing. “This isn’t a game.”

You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder at the empty street behind you. Every instinct screamed for you to leave. Yet you stayed, stepping closer until you stood beside him.

“Then what is it?” you asked, voice softer now.

Ghost was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the dark water below. When he spoke, his voice was lower, almost hesitant.

“Something that doesn’t make sense.”

You frowned. “What doesn’t make sense?”

“This.” He gestured between you. “Us. Talking.”

You opened your mouth to argue but couldn’t. He wasn’t wrong. Two soldiers from opposing factions meeting in secret—it was madness. Yet here you were, neither of you willing to walk away.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to make sense,” you murmured.

He looked at you then, his mask betraying nothing, but his voice came low, cutting through the silence.

“What happens when this stops being enough?”