The rain came down hard, washing the blood from the pavement.

You and Asa sat against the cold wall of the alley, shoulders touching, breaths still shaky from the mission. You’d both almost died. Again. But this time, it had been too close.

She was trembling—maybe from the cold, maybe from everything else.

You glanced at her, waiting for her to speak. For minutes, she didn’t. Just stared at the rain hitting her knees, fists clenched in her lap.

Then, her voice—barely louder than the drops falling around you.

—“I should’ve run,” she said. “I always do.”

You didn’t interrupt.

—“But you stayed.” Her voice broke. “And you made me stay too.”

A pause. Her throat bobbed.

—“I don’t… I’m not good at this. Feeling. Trusting. But today—when I thought I was going to die—I didn’t feel scared of death.”

She looked at you now, eyes wet, and not just from the rain.

—“I felt scared of never telling you.”

You frowned softly. “Telling me what?”

She hesitated. Then:

—“You’re the first person who makes me feel… human.”

She exhaled, shaky, like saying it cost her something.

—“Thank you for not giving up on me. No one else ever did that.”