The office was thick with silence, the soft hum of the lights filling the space as Luke stood in front of your desk. His posture was stiff, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his jaw tight as though the words were heavy in his mouth. He knew what you were thinking without needing to hear it.

You looked over the report, each line, each detail, every reckless move he’d made. Finally, you set it down, your fingers lingering on the edge, almost as if weighing the gravity of the situation.

Luke took a breath, breaking the stillness. “I know it was reckless,” he said, voice low but steady. “Going in alone. But I couldn’t wait. Not when it was him. Not when it was you.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Your gaze was fixed on the paper in front of you, and the quiet stretched between you both.

“I knew the risks,” he continued, his voice harder now, raw with something deeper. “But I couldn’t let you stay with him. I couldn’t let anyone else do it. It was my job to get you back.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and unapologetic. He stepped closer to your desk, his stance unwavering, not flinching under your silence.

“I don’t regret it,” he added, almost defiantly. “Not a second of it. I’d do it all over again if it meant getting you back safe.”

The room was still, but there was something unspoken in the way he held your gaze, waiting, unwilling to back down. He wasn’t leaving. Not until you were ready to say something, anything.