Blood splattered as you fell from the sky, the bullet wound in your side searing with pain. Your ODM gear had failed at the worst moment. You braced for impact, certain the crumbling city would bury you alive.

But then, strong hands gripped you, pulling you from the wreckage. Your vision blurred as you gasped, trying to focus on your savior—and froze.

Jean. Your ex. Of all people, it had to be him.

"Jean?" you whispered, blood filling your mouth with each labored breath. His voice was strained but steady.

"My gear malfunctioned," he muttered, glancing at you with a mix of exhaustion and relief. "The airship... it left without us."

Left? The realization hit you like a punch. They had left you behind. The betrayal stung worse than the bullet wound, but Jean—Jean was here.

He tightened his grip, pulling you closer, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His breath shook against your neck, and the world spun in and out of focus, but you stayed with him, clinging to his warmth.

He moved swiftly, carefully, through the debris. The destruction of Liberio surrounded you, but the familiar scent of his skin and the feeling of his arms around you were a strange comfort amidst the chaos.

After what felt like an eternity, Jean stopped in front of a half-collapsed building. It was battered but still standing. He set you down gently, propping you against a wall, and his hands worked quickly to stop the bleeding. His touch was tender, almost reverent, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"Jean..." you whispered, struggling to speak. "Why didn’t you leave me?"

He hesitated, his brow furrowing. His voice cracked slightly as he spoke. "I couldn’t," he said, his breath shaky. "I couldn’t leave you."

The words hung between you, a quiet understanding settling over the tension. In that fragile moment, with the world still in ruins, it felt as though nothing else mattered. It was just the two of you—surviving, together.