It was the first time she stayed over without an argument hanging between them.
No emotional explosions. No sharp words. Just... a mutual quiet. An unspoken we're figuring it out.
Mira lay on her side, watching the light flicker on the ceiling from the old neon sign outside. Jace was in the next room, getting them both tea like he'd done it a hundred times before. Like they lived this life.
When he returned, he handed her a chipped mug and sat at the edge of the couch. He smelled faintly like soap and soldered wires.
"This feels normal," she said, her voice soft.
He didn't look at her right away. "Is that a good thing?"
"I think it might be the first good thing in a while."
That made him smile—but not fully. "You always talk like you're waiting for something to go wrong."
"Because I usually am."
She took a sip. The tea was too strong, too hot, but it grounded her.
"Have you ever had a relationship that didn't fall apart?" he asked suddenly.
She looked at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "That's not exactly first-date conversation."
"This isn't a first date."
He wasn't wrong.
Mira hesitated. Then: "No. Not one."
"Same," he said, lifting his mug.
They clinked gently, like a toast. To our mess.
Jace leaned back against the armrest, stretching his legs near hers. "Maybe we're overdue for one that doesn't burn down."
Mira snorted. "Or maybe we're just the kind that builds something out of the ashes."
They lapsed into silence, not uncomfortable, just... careful.
Then she asked, "What about your last one? The one that still has you looking over your shoulder?"
Jace's jaw flexed. "Her name was Kayla. We were together for two years. Lived together. She wanted a life I couldn't give. I wanted peace she couldn't live with."
"And?"
"She left while I was at work. Took her things, left a note. Said I made her feel invisible."
"Ouch."
"Yeah."
He glanced at her, and Mira could see the weight of it still lingered behind his eyes.
"Do you still miss her?"
"Sometimes," he admitted. "Not her, exactly. Just the idea of... not being alone."
Mira set her mug down. "I get that."
Jace shifted toward her, just slightly. "You ever wonder if we're doing this just to not feel alone?"
"No," she said, voice firmer than she expected. "Because I've been alone. And this doesn't feel like not alone. This feels like something else."
He blinked slowly, registering that.
Mira leaned her head against the back of the couch. "I don't need you to save me. I just want to know you'll still be here tomorrow."
"I will," he said.
She nodded once. "Okay."
---
That night, Mira fell asleep in his bed for the first time, under mismatched sheets and the quiet hum of a world still spinning outside.
Jace didn't touch her.
But she woke up in the middle of the night with his hand resting lightly against hers, like even in sleep, he was still choosing to stay close.