The night outside the abandoned factory stretched like an endless bruise — deep blue, streaked with storm clouds that refused to break. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and iron. Ezra leaned against the cracked concrete wall, his hand pressed to his ribs, blood leaking between his fingers.
"Hold still." Kai's voice was calm but tight with worry. He tore the hem of his shirt and wrapped it around Ezra's side, his movements swift but trembling.
Ezra tried to smile through the pain. "You're shaking."
Kai didn't look up. "You were shot."
"It's just a graze," Ezra muttered, though his vision was beginning to blur. "I've had worse."
Kai finally met his eyes — sharp, furious, beautiful in that devastating way that made Ezra forget the ache in his bones. "Stop pretending you're invincible," Kai said quietly. "You don't have to be."
Ezra chuckled weakly. "That's rich, coming from you."
For a long second, neither of them spoke. The air crackled — not from the storm, but from something raw between them. Ever since the explosion at the facility, they had been running, surviving on instinct and fractured trust. Yet every time Ezra thought he'd lose Kai again, the other man returned like a storm — unstoppable, merciless, and heartbreakingly human beneath all the fury.
Kai's hands lingered at Ezra's bandaged ribs, his eyes flicking downward. "You always do this," he said, softer now. "You throw yourself in front of everything — bullets, fire, fate. Like you think dying for me will fix what's broken."
Ezra's laugh was quiet, almost bitter. "Maybe it would."
Kai froze. "Don't you dare say that."
"I'm serious, Kai." Ezra's gaze met his — steady, burning. "You think I don't know what it feels like to carry guilt that doesn't fade? You think I haven't seen what it does to you?" He swallowed. "But if dying meant you could finally breathe again… I'd do it."
Kai's hand shot up and gripped the back of Ezra's neck, dragging him forward until their foreheads touched. His voice was low, dangerous. "Don't you ever say that again. If you die, I die. That's how this works."
The words hit Ezra harder than any bullet. He didn't know what to do with the way Kai's voice broke — how the walls he'd built for years were cracking under the weight of someone else's fear.
Lightning flashed through the broken window, illuminating Kai's face — streaked with blood, sweat, and something Ezra didn't dare name.
Kai pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing across Ezra's jaw. "You're always so goddamn stubborn," he murmured. "Even when you're bleeding out."
"And you're always so dramatic," Ezra shot back, smirking despite himself.
The corner of Kai's mouth twitched. "Says the man who confessed love while half-dead."
Ezra huffed a weak laugh. "I was trying to make it cinematic."
"Mission accomplished."
For a moment, silence settled over them — heavy, fragile, perfect. The world outside the factory could have ended, and they wouldn't have noticed.
Then Mara's voice cut through the tension from the other room. "We need to move. They're closing in."
Kai helped Ezra to his feet. "Can you walk?"
"Barely."
"Good enough."
They slipped out through the shattered doorway, the rain finally breaking over the city. Mara was waiting by the truck, her dark hair plastered to her face, a gun in each hand. "You two done making heart eyes?" she snapped, though the relief in her tone betrayed her words.
Ezra grinned. "Jealous?"
"Disgusted," she said, rolling her eyes. But as she turned away, Ezra caught the faintest smile tugging at her lips.
They drove through the night — the city lights blurring past like ghosts. Ezra drifted in and out of consciousness, his head resting against the window. He could hear Mara and Kai arguing softly in the front seat — strategy, next moves, the usual chaos. But underneath it all was a quiet hum of something like peace.
When he woke again, dawn had just begun to bleed across the horizon. The truck had stopped on a dirt road overlooking the valley — a stretch of silence and mist that felt almost unreal.
Kai was sitting outside, smoking.
Ezra joined him, the cool air biting his skin. "You don't even like cigarettes."
Kai exhaled slowly. "I don't. Just needed something to do with my hands."
"Hands, huh?" Ezra teased. "I can think of better uses."
Kai shot him a side glance, his smirk returning. "You never stop, do you?"
"Not when it comes to you."
The quiet between them grew heavy again, but not unpleasant. They watched the sun crawl higher, the first light catching the edges of Kai's face — softening him, turning the fighter into something painfully human.
After a while, Ezra said, "You know this isn't over, right?"
Kai nodded. "It's never over. But we're still here."
"Yeah." Ezra's voice cracked a little. "We are."
Kai reached out and placed his hand over Ezra's. "Then that's enough — for now."
Ezra didn't pull away. He squeezed back, their fingers interlacing in the golden light.
Somewhere in the distance, the world was still burning — enemies regrouping, the truth waiting to be exposed. But for that moment, as the storm broke and the sun rose, all that mattered was this — the touch of a hand, the weight of breath, and the unspoken promise between two souls who refused to give up on each other.
And when Kai finally whispered, "We'll finish this together," Ezra believed him.