The rain started sometime after midnight.
Elijah could hear it now, hammering against the tin roof above, dripping through cracks in the rusted gutter. The small storage room smelled faintly of old wood and dust, the air thick with dampness.
And Luca.
God, Luca was too close.
---
They hadn't planned on ending up here. One minute Elijah was cutting through a back street to lose a tail, the next Luca had grabbed his arm and shoved him into this abandoned repair shop.
The door was barricaded from the inside, the windows shuttered. It was safe—temporarily—but the space was barely big enough for the two of them.
Luca sat on the floor, back against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him. His black shirt clung to him in places from the rain, his hair damp, stray strands falling over his forehead.
Elijah hated how easily his eyes kept straying.
---
"You're pacing," Luca said, his voice low.
"Maybe because I don't like being trapped in a closet with you," Elijah shot back, even though the room wasn't exactly a closet… it felt like one.
"You're welcome for saving you. Again."
Elijah stopped pacing. "Saving me? Or just keeping me alive long enough for whatever game you're playing?"
Luca's gaze lifted to meet his—steady, unreadable, dangerous. "Maybe both."
---
The rain grew heavier, turning into a steady roar. Elijah crossed his arms, hugging his jacket tighter around him.
"You're cold," Luca said.
"No, I'm—" Elijah didn't finish, because Luca was already pulling off his own jacket and tossing it toward him.
"I don't need—"
"Just put it on." Luca's tone brooked no argument.
Elijah caught the jacket reluctantly. It was still warm from Luca's body heat, the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric. Elijah tried to ignore how it made his chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.
---
They fell into silence. For a while, the only sound was the rain and the faint ticking of some long-dead wall clock.
Finally, Elijah spoke, almost against his will. "Why did you do it?"
Luca didn't pretend not to understand. "Do what?"
"Six years ago. You could've told me the truth. Instead, you destroyed everything."
Luca's jaw tightened. "Because the truth would've gotten you killed."
Elijah stared at him, caught between disbelief and the faintest thread of something that felt like fear. "You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Then tell me what was so dangerous that you had to betray me."
Luca looked away, his hand flexing slightly against his knee. "Not tonight."
---
The frustration burned in Elijah's chest. "You always do this. Dangle half an answer and disappear before I can—"
He stopped when Luca suddenly stood and crossed the small room in two steps.
"Maybe I don't tell you because I'm afraid," Luca said quietly.
The words landed like a blow. "Afraid of what?"
"That if you knew everything… you'd never forgive me. And losing you for good scares me more than dying ever could."
---
Elijah's breath caught. They were inches apart now, the space between them charged and trembling.
For a heartbeat, neither moved. Elijah could feel the heat of Luca's body, the tension in his frame, the weight of everything unsaid between them.
Luca's hand lifted—slow, hesitant—like he wanted to touch Elijah's face but wasn't sure if he had the right.
"Don't," Elijah whispered.
But he didn't step back.
---
The moment stretched until the rain softened into a steady patter.
Finally, Luca dropped his hand and stepped away, the wall sliding back into place between them. "Get some rest. We leave at dawn."
Elijah sank down onto the floor, Luca's jacket still draped around him, his heart beating too fast for sleep.
Somewhere in the dark, Luca sat silently, but Elijah could feel his presence like a shadow he could never quite escape.
And maybe… didn't want to.
---