There’s nothing left to say.
Because in that moment, we said everything.
CHAPTER 53
KAZ
She’s asleep on my chest, and the whole damn galaxy could fall apart and I wouldn’t move an inch.
Her breath brushes over my skin, soft and steady. One of her legs is tangled over mine, her fingers curled against my ribs like they’re claiming territory. My hand rests on the bare curve of her back, thumb lazily tracing the tiny constellation of freckles near her spine. I never noticed them before tonight. Now I’m obsessed.
The sheets are kicked down somewhere near our ankles. The window’s cracked open just enough to let in the cool night air, carrying with it the soft chirp of late summer bugs and the rustle of wind through the yard. Somewhere out there, Dar’s fast asleep in the hammock, probably dreaming about dragon ships and mango popsicles.
I stare up at the ceiling, heart beating slow and full and quiet.
I press a kiss to her hair and whisper into it.
“We never needed stars.”
She stirs, eyelids fluttering open just enough for her to murmur, “Hmm?”
“We just needed gravity.”
Nova tilts her chin, still half-asleep, and smiles at me like I just handed her the moon.
“That was poetic,” she whispers. “Did you steal that?”
I grin. “Probably. From you.”
She lifts her head, resting her chin on her hand, skin flushed, hair messy, eyes sharp even in the dark.
“You’re really staying,” she says. It’s not a question. Just a quiet awe.
I nod. “For good,” I say. “Like, boring domestic good. Mornings and dishes and snoring.”
“I don’t snore.”
“You absolutely do.”
She laughs and flops onto her back beside me, arm tossed over her eyes.
We lie there for a beat, our hands still linked.
Then she says, “What now?”
I turn toward her, propping my head up on my elbow. “Now we build something.”
She peeks at me. “Like?”
“Like… a school. For pilots.”
She raises a brow.
“Not just pilots,” I clarify. “Pilots and their families. A place where they don’t have to choose between flying and living. Where legacy and love aren’t enemies.”
Her gaze softens, mouth parting slightly.
“We call it Gravity.”
