She didn't flinch. Didn't shy away. She met my gaze like the Annie I knew, the one who rolled her eyes at gods and drank her coffee like it was a declaration of war. I wanted to touch her. Gods, I wanted it so badly my fingers twitched. Just to be sure. Just to make certain she was real. She saw it in my face. She always does. She didn't say a word. She just lifted her hand and held it out to me across the table. An offering. A bridge.
I grabbed it like it was the last solid thing in the universe. My hands swallowed hers, my thumbs stroking over her knuckles. My eyes fell shut, and a broken exhale tore out of me as I clung to her. She didn't pull away. Didn't flinch. Only said, steady as ever, "Malvor… there's more."
My eyes snapped open. Sharp. Alert. Terrified."More?"
She caught the panic already twisting in me and gave my hand a squeeze. "Not like that. Not more pain." I waited, holding my breath.
"I gained something from each of them," she said. Her voice was quiet, sure. "From Aerion… strength. I can break stone now without trying. Move faster than I ever have. My body responds like a weapon being sharpened, not just swung." My brow furrowed.
"From Navir… intelligence. Processing power. Pattern recognition. The world feels like code, Malvor. I can see probabilities, strategies, equations I don't even have names for. I can build things, ideas, plans, whole realities in my head." I said nothing. Just listened, jaw tightening.
"And from Ravina…" Her pause cut me deeper than any blade. "…something primal. Her plants, they alter states. She left something in me. I can numb pain. Heighten senses. Flood adrenaline. With a touch, I can paralyze someone or drown them in euphoria. It's chemical. Real. In my blood now." My stomach twisted, stunned.
She continued, steady and cold. "I haven't tested it yet. But gods help them, Malvor, I want to. I can feel it. Roots wrapping around nerves. The ability to make someone feel everything… or nothing at all."
My heart pounded in my throat. "You've been carrying this… processing it all this time."
She nodded. "I didn't just survive what they did. I took from them. While they tried to mark me, I stole pieces of their power and made them mine. And I'm going to use it. Not just to hurt them. To become untouchable."
My grip on her hand tightened, reverent. Before I could stop myself, I whispered, "What about me?"
She blinked. I clarified, voice cracking, "You said you got power from each of them. What did you get from me?"
She tilted her head, thoughtful, unafraid. "Chaos," she said. "But not the loud, storming kind. Control. Over my own chaos. I didn't even realize it until I felt theirs inside me. Their violence, their hunger. Then I remembered how quiet I've been with you." My breath hitched.
"How still my mind got," she went on. "How… mine I felt. Even when I was furious. Even when you annoyed the hell out of me. I didn't spiral. I didn't shatter. I chose. You didn't take my chaos away, Malvor. You helped me wield it." I stared, words tangled and useless on my tongue.
She gave me the faintest, almost-smile. "That's what I got from you. Space. Control. And it was everything I needed." My thumb brushed her knuckles, tender. Worshipful. She sipped her coffee. For the first time in days, I did too. It tasted real.
I sat in silence, the bitterness lingering on my tongue, her hand still warm in mine. But my thoughts spiraled inward. Through every memory. Her laugh. Her insults. Her soft exasperation curled under blankets. The way she never recoiled from my madness. Never shied from my power. The way she saw me. The first time she rolled her eyes at my dramatic entrance. The way she mocked my coat. Then wore it. The way she matched me. Changed me. She had quieted the chaos in me without even trying. Where there were sharp edges, she brought calm. Where there was fire, she brought warmth. Joy. Understanding. Laughter. And love. The word slammed into me like a divine strike. Love. Real. Terrifying. Undeniable.
She'd never demanded it. Never asked. But she'd given it. Freely. Without strings. Even when I flirted with Yara. Even when I danced with her. Gods, I could have done worse. But Annie, my Annie, hadn't flinched. She had been steady. Secure. I had done nothing to deserve her. The realization cracked me open. Tears slid hot down my cheeks before I could stop them. Not furious. Not violent. Just… quiet. Honest.
I didn't sob like a god undone. I wept like a man who had finally understood something too heavy to carry. Annie looked at me. Saw everything. She smiled. Soft. Knowing.
"Do we need to name it?" she asked gently.
My throat burned. I nodded, swallowing hard. My voice broke. "Please. I don't deserve you."
She didn't blink. Her grip only tightened. "The best thing about unconditional love," she whispered, "is you never feel like you deserve it. Because it isn't earned. It's given. Freely. No conditions. No exceptions. No rules."
I stared, undone.
"You can't buy it," she said. "You can't fake it. You can't win it. It's a gift. And I choose to give it to you."
She leaned forward, eyes never leaving mine. "Malvor… loving you is as easy as breathing."
The sob that ripped out of me wasn't quiet. It was everything. She didn't flinch. She just held tighter. Because Annie was not broken. She was home. And for the first time in my endless, chaotic life, I understood: Home isn't a place. It's a person.