The door to the Slat creaked open after midnight. Kaz was already awake—he always was. But when he saw you, soaked from the rain, limping just slightly… he froze.

Your coat was torn. Your hands were trembling. And still—you stood there. In his territory.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He didn’t raise his voice. But it cut like a blade.

You didn’t flinch. Just met his gaze with something raw. Something tired. “I know.” He hated how his chest twisted. Hated how every instinct screamed at him to step closer—and how his boots stayed locked to the floor.

You glanced down. Bruises ringed your wrists. “Then tell me to go.”

Kaz didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. Because he knew what you were really asking. And he couldn’t lie. “I won’t,” he said. Quiet. Final. “I can’t.”