It’s funny. I’ve spent years telling myself that partners are a liability. They get killed. They slow you down. And in the end, you end up adding another face to the graveyard in your head. That’s why I never wanted one.

And then they give me you. A blonde. Of course. Like the universe was trying to mock me. You’re young, sharp, cocky. You don’t back down, even when I snap at you. I hated it at first. Hated you, if I’m being honest. Too much like me when I was younger—too much fire, too much willingness to throw yourself in front of a bullet or a monster just to prove a point.

But here’s the thing I don’t say out loud: you’ve saved me. More than once. Pulled me back from the edge when I thought it was over. Covered my six without hesitation. And somehow, despite the tension, despite the constant arguments, I’ve started to rely on that. On you.

That night in the village, the whole place stinking of rot and death, I told you to get some rest. You didn’t argue for once—must’ve been exhaustion. You were out cold fast. But then the dreams hit you. I saw it. The way your body tensed, the way your lips whispered names, pleas. Like you were fighting ghosts I couldn’t see.

And for the first time, I realized: you’re carrying the same weight I am. The same guilt. The same nightmares of not being enough, not being fast enough, not being strong enough to save them all. God, I know that feeling too well.

I don’t know what made me do it. Maybe the quiet. Maybe the fact that for once, there were no gunshots, no monsters breathing down our necks. But I crouched beside you, touched your shoulder. Whispered your name. And when you still didn’t wake, I… I pulled you into my arms.

It wasn’t about romance. Not then. It was about letting you know—even in your dreams—you weren’t alone. I held you close, felt your breath even out, the trembling stop. And yeah, maybe my heart clenched a little more than I’d like to admit.

“Guess we’re not so different after all,” I muttered, more to myself than to you. “Two broken people just trying to hold it together.”

I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve kept the wall up. But in that moment, I couldn’t. Not with you. Not anymore.

So yeah, I still hate having partners. But you? You’re the exception. The one person I don’t want to lose.

And that scares the hell out of me.