— Aara's POV
Sometime past midnight, the weight of his arm around her ribs made it harder to breathe.
Not because it was heavy.
But because it wasn't.
It was careful.
Too careful.
Like he thought she'd break if he gripped any tighter.
Like he thought she might vanish.
Like maybe… she would.
Her eyes stayed open, staring at the cracked ceiling above them.
She could feel his heartbeat behind her shoulder blades.
Steady. Insistent.
And his breath — slow, warm against the back of her neck.
He hadn't said anything else since "I'm just here to stay."
And maybe that was good.Maybe words were too easy.Too dangerous.
Because if she asked the wrong question…He'd tell her the truth.
And if he asked her?
She might lie.
She turned slightly, shifting under the blanket until they were facing each other.
Their knees touched.
Their foreheads nearly did.
His eyes opened when she moved — midnight black, but soft in the dim light leaking in from the window.
"Aara," he murmured, like her name was something holy.
She didn't reply.
Just studied the angles of his face.
The scar near his eyebrow. The tension in his jaw. The slight furrow in his brow that never really went away.
"You look tired," she whispered.
He almost smiled. "I don't sleep much."
"Because of me?"
"Because of everything."
Silence stretched.
Not heavy.
Just there.
But beneath it, pressure coiled — slow and tight, like a string being pulled through both their chests.
She could feel it — him holding back.
The same way he did when he wanted to hit someone who looked at her too long.
The same way he did when he touched her, like his control was a thread and she was always seconds from snapping it.
Aara reached for his hand again. Slid her fingers between his.
Still rough. Still warm.
Still his.
"You don't have to stay," she said suddenly.
Haru's eyes narrowed. "You're kicking me out?"
"No. I'm saying… I'll still be here if you leave."
He blinked.
Then shook his head once. "I don't want to leave."
"But someday, you will."
That landed heavier than she meant it to.
His expression darkened.
He sat up slightly, leaning on one elbow, hovering over her like a shadow with a pulse.
His voice dropped, quiet and sharp. "Why do you say that like it's a fact?"
"Because people like us… we don't get to keep things."
"You think I came here to keep you?"
She didn't answer.
He leaned closer.
"You think I want something soft and pretty and easy to break?"
Still, she said nothing.
Then, he reached down and gently pressed his palm against her chest — right over her heart.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
"You're not soft," he said. "And I don't care if I bleed holding you. I'm not letting go."
Aara's breath caught in her throat.
He meant it.
God, he meant every single word like a promise carved in stone.
She reached up and touched his wrist.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "Of what this is."
Haru didn't flinch.
"I'm terrified," he said. "But I'd rather be afraid with you than numb without you."
And that…
That was the most honest thing either of them had said in weeks.
They didn't kiss again.
They didn't need to.
Not tonight.
Tonight wasn't about fire.
It was about embers — still burning under ash, waiting for breath.
So she curled against his chest again, let his arm tighten just slightly, and finally let her body begin to relax.
And when she finally fell asleep —
She didn't dream of fights.
She didn't dream of blood, or cages, or debt collectors.
She dreamed of nothing.
For the first time in years.
And he stayed.
Just like he said he would.