You’d lost track of how long you’d been running. Your lungs burned, your shoes tore through wet grass, and the only thing you could hear—aside from your heartbeat—was Boosfer’s laugh cutting through the chaos.

“You still with me?” he called, glancing back just long enough for you to see the grin tugging at his lips.

“Barely,” you shot back, half breathless, half annoyed. “You said this would be easy.”

He slowed down, just enough to let you catch up. “Yeah, well, I lied.” His tone was playful, but the glint in his eyes said he was very aware of the trackers closing in.

Then—he grabbed your wrist, pulled you behind a tree, both of you pressed close in the dark. His breath brushed your ear. “They’re going the other way,” he whispered, low, steady. “We move when I say.”

You could feel his heartbeat against yours—fast, reckless. He looked down at you, the smirk fading for a second. “You sure you wanna help me win this? ‘Cause if we get caught, it’s both of us.”

You met his stare, refusing to look away. “Then we don’t get caught.”

He grinned again—quiet, sharp. “That’s my girl.”