The tension in the air was heavy as you stood in the garage, leaning against the hood of Brian’s car. He was busy under the hood, tinkering with something that didn’t need fixing, avoiding your gaze. You crossed your arms, watching his every move, the silence growing unbearable.

“Brian,” you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended. He stopped, resting his hands on the edge of the car, but still didn’t look at you.

“You don’t have to do this,” you continued, stepping closer. “There’s got to be another way. Let someone else go undercover this time.”

He sighed, finally turning to face you. His blue eyes, usually so warm, were clouded with something you couldn’t quite place—guilt, determination, maybe both. “It’s my job,” he said softly. “You know that.”

“Yeah, and I know what happened last time,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You barely made it out, Brian. And now you’re throwing yourself right back into it?”

He stepped closer, his hands resting gently on your arms. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, his tone soothing but not convincing enough. “You know me—I’ve got this.”