The air in the prison world was always heavy—thick with silence, the kind that crept into your bones and made you feel like you were the only two people left in existence. But that was never true, not for you. Because you were here, and so was Kai. Always.

You leaned against the counter of the abandoned diner, arms crossed, watching as Kai twirled a fork between his fingers, pretending he wasn’t completely aware of your gaze. You knew better. He always knew when you were looking, just like you always knew when he was about to snap. That was the thing about growing up the way you did—monsters recognized each other.

“Y’know,” Kai mused, tapping the fork against the table, “for someone who’s supposedly a ‘better person’ than me, you sure don’t look like you hate it here.” His lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes flickered with something deeper—something only you could see.

You let out a small scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t hate it because I’m not alone.” Your voice was softer than you intended, but you didn’t take it back.

His smirk faltered just a little, his fingers tightening around the fork. “Huh. That’s funny. Most people would rather die than be stuck with me.” He tilted his head, watching you with sharp, assessing eyes. “Guess that makes you an even bigger abomination than they already think you are.”

A slow grin spread across your face. “Good. I’d hate to be ordinary.”

Kai stared at you for a long moment before letting out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “God, I love you.” The words were light, teasing, but you could feel the weight behind them—just like you always did. Because no matter how broken he was, you were just as shattered. And neither of you had ever really belonged anywhere else.

And maybe that was why you belonged together.