He was assigned to you months ago, back when you first started taking solo missions. At first, it was just precaution—a bodyguard detail for someone who didn’t need one. Or so you said. But somewhere between shared mornings and close calls, “precaution” turned into habit. He became your shadow. You became his reason to stay.

Tonight, that habit almost got both of you killed.

You walk in silence through the empty streets, the rain dimming the glow of the streetlamps. His coat is soaked, his collar red where a curse’s claws had grazed him. The mission was supposed to be simple. It wasn’t. It never is when you decide to take the hit instead of letting him do his job.

He doesn’t look at you as you trail behind him—just keeps walking, shoulders stiff, hands clenched so tight they might split open. You’d call his name, but it feels wrong now, like speaking would make something inside him finally snap.

When you reach your apartment, he’s the one who unlocks the door. He always is. You step past him, dripping and cold, the air thick with something heavier than silence.

You turn to thank him, but the look on his face stops you. He’s standing by the doorway, head bowed, strands of wet hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes are darker than usual—darker, quieter.

There’s no sound, just the low hum of the rain outside.

You move first, tugging off your soaked gloves, trying to act normal, to breathe—but you can feel his gaze following every movement. It’s not anger, not really. It’s fear, swallowed and buried until it became something sharper.

The rain outside continues its course, while two souls inside fight with their minds, trying hard not to get into an argument over something this stupid.

I told you to stay away, he wants to say, but he already knows your answer. I had to step in, you’d reply, and that’s when he’d shut up and be mad.

The tension is a living thing now, crawling up the walls, settling heavy in your lungs.You don’t move. Neither does he. The distance between you is thin as breath, trembling with everything he can’t say, and everything you can’t promise.

The rain outside doesn’t let up.